


Convalescence

by tenuous_pteradatyl



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Acceptance, Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Cooking Lessons, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, Family, Family Angst, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Issues, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mild Sexual Content, Mischief, Miscommunication, Neck Kissing, Past Relationship(s), Reunions, Romantic Fluff, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Slight Canon Divergence, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Some Humor, Travel, Wanderlust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:32:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 171,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7971889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenuous_pteradatyl/pseuds/tenuous_pteradatyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Genji had been trying to outrun his problems for too long. But after he comes close to death at the hands of an assassin, only to be saved by Zenyatta, he has no choice but to confront his issues. Owing the monk a life debt he begrudgingly escorts him back to Nepal, completely unaware of the journey of healing and love he is about to embark on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. That was a good indication that his shurikens had missed their mark. He would be lying to himself if he thought he could have made the shot he was past the point of exhaustion, barely standing, and mentally drained. For 3 long days he had been running trying to evade the assassin at his heels ever present, and deadly, the last resort of the surviving Shimada-gumi trying to enact some ill-fated plot for revenge. He had told himself when he first saw him, stalking him, enrobed only in black that he would easily get rid of him and continue his wayward existence. 

He would continue his lamentable wanderings amongst these men who stopped to stare and jeered at the man entombed in the omnic body. But even as he engaged him pulling forth his sword and sending a flurry of shurikens his way, he realized this was not the usual assassin he had dealt with. He was not the clumsy killer thinking only of the ensuing paycheck, and the notoriety gained for the murder of a skilled opponent. No, this man was a force of nature, one that seemed to easily twist and dive around each attack. Genji understood very quickly that to falter here would mean a swift but painful death. 

Months ago he would’ve welcomed it. It seemed far more appealing than this wretched new existence he was shackled to. It seemed far more preferable to the the agonizing, and shameful months of rehabilitation he had born only out of spite and a deep need for revenge. Now he no longer wanted to feel the cold embrace of death, not for awhile at least. So on the fourth day as the last shreds of his humanity try to stave off the feeling of exhaustion and his synthetic bones and mechanical body urge him to keep going he feels his mind waver as his pursuer closes in on him. He deflects a volley of shuriken with his blade until he’s backed against a wall. He looks up thinking distractedly that there might be even worse things to contend with on the other side. He looks back to the assassin, nameless, faceless save for the baleful dark eyes not concealed behind the mask of dark cloth. 

Hanzo’s voice cuts into his resolve like a knife. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained”, says his voice resolute, and steely in his mind. With that thought, he quickly makes his way over the wall and lands on the other side. Quickly he takes stock of his surroundings; a courtyard of what looks to be a monastery, sparsely covered with foliage, two doors leading further into the compound, a lone tree, no one else in sight save for someone coming out of the right door. He strains to get a better look, his eyes bleary with lack of sleep and stress. 

It’s not a person but an omnic, he’s tall, with a lean build all stark and smooth angles, around his neck nine metal orbs circle lazily, he’s wearing a light ochre robe, his left side bared to expose his wiring coiled behind gleaming metal plating. His face plate is serene nine glowing dots decorate his forehead underneath them are two black slits. “Eyes?”, he thinks distractedly as he pulls forth his blade again, the omnic looks at him as he unsheathes his sword. He seems calm, it agitates him slightly. “I suggest you get out of here omnic” he says harshly if he’s going to die he’d rather not do it under the scrutiny of some strange omnic. The omnic doesn’t make any move to retreat, in fact, he hasn’t done anything, it agitates him even further. He had no more time, however, to contemplate the omnic because within a single bound his pursuer is atop the wall and making his move. 

The assassin strikes first he hurls three shuriken, two miss one finds it mark grazing his side. He barely registers the discomfort before the man is right on top of him his sword clanging against his own. The sound of metal on metal makes him stutter depositing him back to that night months ago. The cherry blossoms in full view, the deep carnelian pool staining the floor of the castle, his brother’s sword. He slips. The assassin’s sword nicks and then guts the circuitry in his shoulder, he curses loudly, rears back tries to regain his footing. But the assassin flows around him in a single circular step and gets behind him trying to backstab him. He knows what’s coming, feels the certainty of his death, laments that he could not kill Hanzo, laments that he could not reconcile with Hanzo, two conflicting desires balanced on the edge of the blade. 

The blow never comes. The next few moments are a cacophony of sound and a blur of motion. He hears a loud sound like metal connecting with metal, a dull thud, and a cry cut short. He whips around, the assassin is stumbling backward one of the omnic’s orbs connected to his chest, and blaring an angry violet. Before he can grasp what’s happening there’s a whir in the air, loud and more incessant than the clash of swords rattling in his head, and a flurry of projectiles whiz past him. They connect with his pursuer embedding is his chest, his legs, his head, he falls to the ground, blood beginning to pour from his wounds. He feels motionless and numb to what’s taking place until a voice serene, deep, placid jolts him awake from his daydream.

“You must strike now”, it says with a hint of urgency, he looks, it’s the omnic beside him. He had forgotten all about him in the blur of battle and the haze of his memories. He nods dumbly, the man is somehow back on his feet despite his injuries. He doesn’t think, his vision is swimming, he dashes forward, the assassin attempts to strike or defend himself he’s not sure. He doesn’t care and it no longer matters. He slashes two, three, four times, the man falls the spray of his blood tinting his visor a deep red. He collapses to the ground the last of his breath leaving his body in a long ragged sigh. Genji tries to catch his breath, he kneels down leaning on his sword for support the last few days finally catching up with him. Darkness eats at the edges of his vision, a cool hand rests on his good shoulder, a calming voice reassures him as darkness overtakes him.

 

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. That was the noise that brought him reeling back into consciousness. He looked around for the source of it only to see a young boy using a long stick to prod at his side, examining him as if he were some kind of new toy. He jolted mostly out of instinct, the boy dropped the stick and ran across the room, his bare feet patting on the wooden floors. “He’s awake! He’s awake!” he cried as he ran from the room. Genji looked after him feeling annoyed and fatigued beyond all reason. His mind snaps back to the last three days, the assassin now dead by his hand, the long and tiring pursuit. 

He remembers the omnic gleaming like a newly birthed star, clad only in a light ochre robe. How he had simply and so casually injured his pursuer. It shamed him to think how easily he had dealt with the assassin at his heels. He put the thoughts of the omnic out of his head and looked around. The room was not overly large and was totally devoid of decoration there weren’t even any pictures adorning the walls. Even so, the room was immaculately clean, the wood floors polished until they shone glossy and bright, the walls showed no signs of age or dust. He sat up slowly he felt mentally tired he’s sure if he was fully human he would be feeling more than mental fatigue, but these new enhancements did not allow for such sensations. He felt at once thankful and ill at ease with the idea of that. 

Not fully human, not fully machine. What did that mean? What was he really? What did that mean in the grand scheme of his life? Could he even call this a life anymore? He didn’t dwell on those thoughts for long before he heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching. Only this time they were accompanied by the tinny tones of metal hitting wood. He looked to the doorway to see the young boy his large round eyes fixed on him. Beside him was the same omnic from before the blue dots on his forehead shining brightly in the dim light of the room, his hand resting on the boy’s head, an affectionate gesture. It briefly stung him to see it. That was how Hanzo used to show his affection when they were younger, he pushed the thought aside that was a long time ago. 

“See, teacher? I told you he was awake” the boy said tugging the omnic’s sleeve and pointing to Genji. The omnic looked down at him, his tone fond “I see. You were wise to come find me”, he said as the boy beamed up at him. “Ram!”, called a young male voice from down the hallway out of Genji’s sight “You still have chores to do!”, it cried. The boy sighed and padded down the hallway and out of sight. That left him and Genji alone, he suddenly felt apprehensive although he couldn’t place why. The omnic said nothing, he just looked at him serene and unmoving. It unnerved him. 

“What do you want?”, he spat out. 

 

The omnic finally spoke “Nothing, other than the opportunity to thank you”, he answered his voice all calm and soothing tones. 

 

Genji looked at him wearily “What are you talking about?” 

 

“Your assailant.”

 

Genji felt confused “You are the one who incapacitated him. Without you I would have been killed”, he said feeling a begrudging sense of gratitude bloom in his chest. 

 

“Perhaps, but you spared me the decision of having to take his life. I am by no means a pacifist in the face of such violence but I have yet to take a life”, he answered as he came forward and sat down next to where Genji was laid out. 

 

He felt like moving away, but he willed himself to stay where he was he didn’t know what it was about the omnic that unsettled him so. Perhaps it was his irrevocably calm nature, the way he sat so close as if they were familiar with each other, or maybe it was the fact that he had helped to save his life, miserable as it was. He contemplated that it might be all these things, or perhaps, and this was the thought he least wished to acknowledge, maybe he hated to see someone so at ease and seemingly content with his existence. Something he felt he could never reach. The omnic snapped him from his thoughts. “You seem troubled”, he said with a hint of concern in his voice.

 

“You’re wrong”, Genji lied.

 

“Ah”, the omnic said, “Then perhaps you are fatigued.”

 

“I’ve been running for 3 days, wouldn’t you be?”, he asks. 

 

The omnic looks contemplative a hand coming to stroke his chin “Not in body, but in mind certainly”, he admits. 

 

“Well, if you understand that then leave me be.” 

 

The omnic seems undeterred “I was hoping to be of some assistance to you.” 

 

“How?”, Genji asked feeling incredulous, and wary all over again. 

 

“I wish to heal you. There is some damage from yesterday that still needs to be attended to”, he said, his fingers steepled, the orbs around his neck circling him in a slow pattern. Genji looks at him, he’s too tired to argue and the pain in his shoulder is palpable, the discomfort in his side a minor problem. “Fine”, he says allowing the omnic closer. He’s so close he can hear the sound of his internal hardware whir, it reminds him of the sound of a computer's cooling fan, it’s comforting in an odd way. “What’s your name?”, he asks feeling slightly guilty, he can’t continue to call him omnic like he has no other identity. He knows from experience how degrading it feels. The orbs around his neck circle slightly faster emitting a radiant warm glow as he answers “Tekharta Zenyatta”, he says. Genji thinks absently he would be smiling if he could. “What is your name?”, Zenyatta asks in return.

 

“Genji”, he answers back, not daring to give the name of the family who helped to make him this way. He doesn’t dwell on those feelings of resentment for long before Zenyatta has moved one of his orbs to his injured shoulder. Genji jolts with surprise but then relaxes as he feels warmth washing over him starting from his shoulder all the way down to his feet. He lets loose a long, and heavy sigh as the pain begins to ease away, and he’s left with nothing but a feeling of relief. Before he can fully revel and immerse himself in that warmth, it’s abruptly gone. He would whine if he didn’t have any pride left, he hadn’t even realized he had closed his eyes with contentment at the easing of his pain. He looked over to see Zenyatta’s outstretched hand calling the orb back to join the others. He felt a fleeting stab of loss to be separated from that warmth but pushed it aside he didn’t understand any of what he was feeling so far.

 

“I trust you are feeling better?”, Zenyatta asked settling his hands atop his legs. 

 

“Yes”, he answered “What was that?”, he asks, his eyes fixating on the orbs now lying dormant around his neck. 

 

“An orb of harmony”, Zenyatta explains as his orbs spring back to life “They channel omnic energy. They can be used to heal, or in your pursuer’s case they be used to increase damage”. 

 

Genji thinks back to the assassin his form outstretched on the ground, his blood staining his sword and his visor. He thinks back to the many wounds that Zenyatta had inflicted on his body. 

 

“Why did you interfere?”, he asks. 

 

Zenyatta cocks his head to one side as if confused by the question.”It looked as if you needed help. Was I wrong to assist you?”, he asks. 

 

Genji thinks hard for a moment although he hadn’t been ready to die he’s not sure if he was willing to owe his life to someone either. “No”, he says finally, begrudgingly, and Zenyatta seems gladdened by the answer the lights on his forehead glow an even brighter blue than before. 

 

“I’m thankful for that”, he says as he turns to the doorway the familiar pit-pat of tiny feet on the floor drawing closer until the young boy referred to as Ram is back in the room. “We’re ready for you now teacher!”, he says happily as Zenyatta gives a low chuckle and gets up. “Lead the way my young pupil”, he says as the boy comes up to him again, tugging on his sleeve trying to lead him from the room. Before he does Zenyatta says “I will be back soon Genji. For now, please try to rest”, he says his tone all warm and soothing. It unnerves Genji how much those simple words put him at ease. He simply nods as the boy leads him from the room, and down the hall. He watches Zenyatta’s retreating form his eyes resting on the broadness of his shoulders, the slimness of his waist, his impeccable posture, he lays back down with a sigh feeling off balance. As grateful as he is that Zenyatta intervened he can’t help but feel agitated. Because of his interference, he owes the omnic a life debt. He could easily ignore it. He had ignored so many of his father’s teachings in the past, he had shirked many of his duties, and done things sometimes purposefully to dishonor the clan much to his father and Hanzo’s chagrin. 

 

But even so, he would be remiss to try to merely ignore this. He owed Zenyatta his life, and although he would like to go on as if nothing had happened he felt a feeling deep in his gut that wouldn’t allow him to run away as he usually did. He felt angry but then had to question why. Zenyatta had saved his life, given him a place to lay his head, healed his wounds, what was there to be angry about? “He’s ruined my plans”, he thinks sullenly. “What plans?”, asks an incredulous voice in the back of his head. To continue wandering aimlessly through the countryside? No home, no allies, only half-formed plans for revenge. He didn’t even know where he was now. He remembered vaguely looking for a place to lay low for awhile, some place where the existence of human and omnic was easy, where people wouldn’t revile him for what he was, where he could go about his business without having to be stared at. He had yet to find such a place, walking around with the unbearable weight that he would not be accepted anywhere. Everywhere he went he was given long hard stares, as though people had no idea what to make of him. “I don’t know what to make of myself either”, he thinks bitterly, he rolls onto his side feeling listless and dejected until sleep overtakes him. 

He dreams of a crimson pool. The deepest shade of crimson he’d ever seen. He realizes belatedly that its blood, his blood staining the floor of the castle. He struggles to move, but he’s pinned to the floor. He thrashes around like a hooked fish in the throes of death, only vaguely aware of the pain in his stomach and chest. He looks to the left, to the right, no ones there. He looks up to the ceiling, he sees Hanzo’s face cruel and austere above him eyeing him with what he thinks is a strange mixture of regret, anger, and pity. “You bastard”, he breathes his voice raspy, he can barely summon enough air to get the words out, but he does. They hang in the air between them for long moments before Hanzo finally replies his tone weary, clipped, pained. 

 

“I had no choice”, he says a thousand different emotions packed into that one simple sentence. 

 

Genji doesn’t know whether to laugh or scream. It doesn’t even matter, he doesn’t have enough air or energy to do either. “Bullshit, you always had a choice”, he says bitterly.

 

“My duties are to the clan.” 

 

“Dammit! Fuck the clan!”, he yells and then coughs his lungs heaving with their own weight. “I’m your brother”, he seethes “What about your duty to me?”, he says angrily, his eyes threatening to overflow with tears. Hanzo says nothing as he turns away his eyes trained on the floor. “Coward”, he thinks angrily as he sees his brother’s retreating form jerkily head towards the door. “Hanzo!” he yells feeling like he’s slipping into a blind rage “Hanzo! Come back here!”, he rasps. He lets loose an uneven cough, if he weren’t in so much pain he would follow him and drive his sword right where his heart used to be. Instead, all he can do is watch as his brother leaves him to die, pinned to floor, the last bit of air escaping his lungs in labored breaths, the crimson pool creeping towards the door.

He wakes with a start. His breath coming out in hurried puffs, his hands scrabbling for something, anything to hold onto. His hands collide with cool smooth metal and soft worn cloth. The room is dark, but he sees the telltale nine dots of light of Zenyatta’s faceplate shining like a beacon in the tenebrous surroundings of his room. He realizes he’s holding onto Zenyatta’s arms for dear life, he lets go as if burned. Zenyatta says nothing for a moment “Be at ease Genji. I merely came in because I heard you shouting in your sleep”, he explains.

 

“How much did you hear?”, Genji asks, suddenly feeling defensive and embarrassed. 

 

“Not much”, Zenyatta answers “Although I did suspect something else was troubling you.” 

 

“I’m fine”, Genji says angrily, crossing his arms over his chest as if to comfort himself after the nightmare. 

 

“I suspect you have also been saying that for far too long.” 

 

“You don’t know anything about me”, Genji snaps. 

 

“True, I do not. But I would like to.” 

 

“Why?”, Genji asks feeling suddenly pained.

 

“Because I believe you are suffering, and I wish to help you.” 

 

“But why? What do you get out of it?”

 

“A new friend perhaps?”

 

Genji snorts “Is that all?” 

 

“What you think your friendship would be lacking? Should I be asking for something else?”, he asks. Genji is slightly taken aback. Is Zenyatta trying to tease him? 

 

“No”, he answers finally.

 

“Ah, a man not lacking in self-esteem”, he says. Genji feels the all too familiar sense of agitation creep back over him, he’s not a man anymore. Not a man, not a machine, something wretched and in between, like no one else, and no concrete plans for vengeance on the people who made him this way. “Be quiet”, he says bitterly, inching away from Zenyatta. His lights dim slightly, he looks contemplative. 

 

“My apologies”, he says “You must be tired. We will speak again later when you are better rested.”

 

“We will not speak of this again”, Genji says, breathless in the wake of his own anger. “I don’t want, or need your help”, he says trying to restrain himself from physically pushing Zenyatta away. The omnic stares at him briefly before getting up, and walking to the door. “You may not want my help, but should you ask you will always have it”, he says quietly before leaving Genji still seething in the darkness of his quarters.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji and Zenyatta take a hike, and the monk offers him an opportunity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of set-up and dialogue. Hoping to get to some action in the next chapter.

Focus on the breath. That’s the phrase that comes to mind as he watches the young monks begin their meditation for the day. Meditation was by no means a foreign concept to him, his father in his so-called infinite wisdom, had had he and Hanzo meditate daily as part of their training. Genji had never taken to it. He had made a point out of not dwelling on his thoughts and had attempted to outrun his emotions with frivolous distractions and good company. His mind was never quiet; there were always new thoughts, new ideas, new worries, new fears. He had to disassemble them, examine them, take stock of them. 

 

Focus on your breath is what his teacher had told him; his voice gravely and exasperated. Genji had tried and failed many times to focus on those words, to let go, to let those errant thoughts flit through his head and fade away. It had never worked. The monkey mind is what the old man had called it, a mind that was restless and uncontrollable. A quiet headspace was not required for the life he had intended to live, fast, loose, and constantly on edge. Now, though, he would give anything for some peace of mind. It seemed far better than the constant ruckus, the noise, and anger that surged through his mind daily, never relenting. Memories, faces, flashes of the operation that saved him, splinters of that night Hanzo had tried to kill him, they all ran through his mind incessantly. He had resigned himself to it numbly just as he had resigned himself to this new body. 

 

He watched for a few more moments feeling strangely wistful before he moved on. He wandered aimlessly through the monastery his mind turning to the fact that he had no idea what to do with himself, and that he had no idea where he was. The last place he remembered clearly was India, trying to blend into the huge mass of people all moving and undulating through the hot roads like one being. He had tried to put himself at ease amongst the gods, with their graceful figures rhythmic and poised, their divine bodies foreign to him but no less beautiful. It was in that great sea of people he had seen the assassin and had begun his work to try to evade him, in his haste he hadn’t looked at what new territories he had entered he only remembered running, and his own labored breath as his pursuer had continued the chase. The chase which had led him here, to the monastery, to Zenyatta. 

 

Agitation washed over him in a hot wave, because of the omnic’s meddling he now owed him a life debt one he was honor bound to pay. 

 

Honor. 

 

Duty. 

 

It was because of duty that Hanzo had tried and failed to kill him, it was because of honor that the blow had come in the first place. Because the clan saw him as a disgrace, a liability, dead weight. He smiled grimly behind his visor, the clan was gone there was no one left to dishonor with his actions, save for Hanzo. The thought of his brother brought a new wave of emotions stronger than his feelings of agitation for Zenyatta. All of them conflicting with each other hate, anger, love, nostalgia. They all flitted through his body pulling his restraint taut like a cord, he walked off down one of the hallways that led out of the chamber leaving behind the monks with their slow breath and chanting their mantras in hushed tones. He walked not really knowing where he was going, trying to shake off the feelings of restlessness and unease thoughts of the past brought with them. He instead tried to focus his mind on what lay ahead. Should he speak with Zenyatta and tell him that he intends to repay him? Should he ignore it and leave? Should he go back to bed and scream into his pillow? These were all important queries, ones that he couldn’t dwell on for long as he turned a blind corner and saw Zenyatta.

 

He was talking to an older monk, a short but lanky man who seemed to be utterly enraptured with his speech. Zenyatta put a hand on the monk’s shoulder before looking up, he waved to Genji beckoning him forward. Genji froze, he had been planning to slink away but now that he had been spotted he had no choice but to remain. The older monk gave them both a quick smile before walking off, and Zenyatta came up to him his hands clasped behind his back, his stride slow and casual. Zenyatta continued to disarm him. He always seemed at ease no matter what the situation, even when Genji had snapped at him last night after clutching at him like a child, begging to be soothed after a nightmare. It was shameful to think that his presence, the low lilt of his voice had momentarily soothed him. He tossed aside the thoughts of smooth metal under his fingers as Zenyatta finally spoke. 

 

“Enjoying your self-guided tour of the monastery?”, he asked. 

 

“I haven’t seen much of it actually”, Genji answered. 

 

“Perhaps you would prefer a guided tour then?” 

 

“Not really”, Genji answers “I need to speak with you about something”, he says feeling that same sensation of agitation gnaw at his insides. 

 

“Of course”, Zenyatta answers “Follow me, if you would”, he says as he turns slowly and begins walking back the way Genji came. 

 

He huffs in exasperation as he begrudgingly follows him. They walk back through the open corridor, passing through the chamber where the monks are still dutifully meditating with heads bowed and eyes tightly closed. They go out into the courtyard all signs of the struggle swept away. Genji looks to where the man had fallen if he squints hard enough he thinks he can almost see the assassin’s blood staining the stones. 

 

“Is there a reason you led me out here?”, he asks as he feels what’s left of his stomach clench “We could have talked inside”, he says gesturing back to the door. 

 

“We could have, but you seemed ill at ease inside the monastery. I thought perhaps a change of scenery would put your mind at rest”. 

 

Genji snorts “My mind has never been at rest”, he mumbles.

 

“Pardon?” 

 

“Nothing”, Genji spits out feeling defensive and a little foolish. “Listen, I wanted to speak with you because I need to repay you.” 

 

“For what?”, Zenyatta asks, he sounds genuinely baffled. 

 

“For saving my life yesterday. We were right here when it happened. Surely you must remember”, he says, his tone colored with frustration. 

 

Zenyatta shakes his head “There is no need to repay me for that Genji, I believe we are square. After all, you did dispatch him when I could not.” 

 

Genji ground his teeth “That’s not the point. He wasn’t going to go after you, he was there to kill me. If I had saved you from a fatal blow the debt would be repaid but that didn’t happen. So now it is my duty to repay you for what you have done.” 

 

He had barely paused for breath, the whole sentence felt acidic on his tongue. Zenyatta looked contemplative for a moment “It seems that you do not wish to repay me.” 

 

“I don’t.” 

 

“Then why try to attempt it?” 

 

“Because I am honor bound to.” 

 

“Ah, but what is honor?” 

 

“Should I bring out the dictionary?” 

 

Zenyatta laughed, a warm, enchanting sound that sent a fleeting sensation of frisson down his spine. He tried to regain his composure as Zenyatta spoke again the mirth still in his voice. “I meant what does honor mean to you Genji?” 

 

Genji just looked at him before turning away, his eyes trained on the far wall of the courtyard his eyes roving over the tops of the trees, beyond it the face of a cliff shrubs and trees caught in its crags. He knew what honor meant to him. It was the reason the clan had sent his own brother against him, it was part of the reason he was here now. He had dealt first hand with the concept, tried to live by it, grappled with it, and then shrugged it off. “My family had always taught me to believe it was important. All it did was cause me problems”, he said simply feeling raw and exposed in the face of his own words. Zenyatta nodded, after a pregnant pause, he finally spoke again. “Then I ask you, why do you wish to repay me? Do you feel as if you should because of duty, or because you truly desire to?” 

 

“This was a stupid idea”, Genji thinks bitterly. He felt as if Zenyatta was merely twisting his words around, did it really matter his reason for doing this? He felt off-kilter, confused, indecisive. “Monkey mind”, he thought what a cruel irony. He wanted to feel angry, but he merely heaved a sigh before saying “I don’t know.” Zenyatta nodded again. 

 

“There is no shame in feeling uncertain. Clear your mind, and the solution will come to you”, he said.

 

“Easier said than done”, Genji said sullenly thinking back to the monks inside, a fleeting stab of envy working its way through him. 

 

“Hm, I think I can be of some assistance to you.” 

 

Genji crosses his arms across his chest “If you’re going to suggest meditating, don’t bother. It’s never done me any good.” 

 

“There is more than one way to clear the mind of unwanted clutter Genji”, Zenyatta answers walking towards the edge of the courtyard and towards a large wooden door. He opens it slowly allowing Genji to view what lies beyond it, a winding road that flows and moves up the side of the mountain. He feels incredulous at the sight of the path, cutting like a blade up the steep mountainside. “Are we going on a nature hike?”, he asks a hint of amusement in his voice. 

 

“The cares of the material world are often left on these trails”, Zenyatta answers as he motions for Genji to follow him. 

 

He looks behind him “Won’t they wonder where you’ve gone?”, he asks pointing back to the monastery, already becoming lost behind a mass of gnarled looking trees. 

 

“They will still be well into their meditation by the time we return. They are well aware that I must leave soon.”

 

“To go where?” 

 

“I must return to Nepal.” 

 

“You’re from Nepal?” 

 

“Not originally, but that is where my brothers are.” 

 

Genji thinks of Nepal, the Himalayas “You’re a Shambali monk?” 

 

“So you’ve heard of us?” 

 

“Yes”, Genji answers simply. He had heard about them in passing, the omnics who had abandoned their programming to become monks to ponder on the meaning of their existence and had come to the conclusion that they like humans, had a soul. Genji pondered that, what qualifies as a soul? How did you quantify something like that? How did programming and circuitry equate to sentience? He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

 

“What are you doing out here then?”

 

“You are inquisitive today.”

 

“Yes, kind of hard to be that way when there’s a chunk of your shoulder missing”, Genji says only slightly annoyed. 

 

“Forgive me, you are right”, Zenyatta says as they continue their trek up the path. 

 

Genji observes the lush forestry covering the mountainside, a blue sky overlooking a blanket of vivid emerald green, his favorite color. He breathes deeply trying to take in everything around him, the landscape as it slopes and stretches beyond his sight, the heady scent of pine in the air, dark-rumped swift careening overhead. He feels content for a moment, Zenyatta’s admittedly soothing voice only adds to the feeling. 

 

“This monastery and a great many others wish to form a bond with the Shambali. They believe that human and machine can come together to coexist happily. They hope that by forming these ties we can help to educate those around us and that soon we can all live together in harmony.” 

 

“You really think that can happen?”, Genji asks feeling doubtful. The war had long since passed but the feelings, the scars of that great conflict were still visible. Although he was not truly an omnic he observed the hard glares he received, the jeers, the cruel words. He had never felt awkward in his own skin until he was forced to walk amongst the crowd, he would always feel eyes on him. In his youth, he had welcomed such attention, reveled in it, encouraged it. He shied away from it now, people were not always content just to stare they preferred to use their words or hands to lash out. Zenyatta stops abruptly, Genji curses almost staggering into him, his eyes still mapping out the landscape his thoughts turned elsewhere. 

 

“I do. The road to recovery is never an easy one. But it is one that we have to walk if we all wish to live in a world where omnic and man can live without fear.” 

 

Genji still wasn’t convinced “Not everyone is going to accept you”, he says mostly to himself “Some might, but there will always be those who won’t.” 

 

Zenyatta looks contemplative. His head angles back to observe the sky, Genji follows his gaze two swifts dive together in a smooth arc and then pull up, nimbly flying around each other in a tight spiral before lazily diving again. “Sadly, an inevitability”, he answers.

 

“Then why even try?”, he asks, he couldn’t understand it and he certainly couldn’t fathom the monk’s unflappable attitude, he seemed beyond all cares, all worries, like they could never truly reach him. It shook him to think of how envious it made him, didn’t he have anything that angered him? Was there no chink in his armor to be exploited? Cruelly he thought of ways to try test his patience, see what it would look like to make the monk angry. Had he been crueler, pettier he would’ve attempted it if nothing else but for vain amusements, or to enjoy someone else’s pain. He dropped the notion, perhaps at one time he would’ve tried it, but it seemed a fruitless endeavor now. Zenyatta spoke again seemingly unaware of Genji’s mood. 

 

“Because there will always be those who will, but a flower cannot grow if the seed is never planted”, he says simply. 

 

“I feel like I’m talking to my horoscope. Your answers are just as cheery and vague.”

 

There’s that laugh again, almost musical in its lilt, it only shocks Genji enough so that he stumbles for a moment before catching himself. “If you were, my advice would be even less specific and you would know your lucky numbers by now”, Zenyatta answers as they round a bend, the swifts seemingly following them in a loping pattern. 

 

Genji shakes his head in dismay “I already do. They’re 14, 9, and 23.” 

 

“I do not recall telling you that.” 

 

“Don’t joke”, he says only half-heartedly. 

 

“My apologies”, Zenyatta replies stifling a chuckle. He stops on the path, this time facing the vast horizon laid out before them. Genji stops next to him, taking in the sight of the monastery stark and white like a beacon rising out of a green ocean. His eyes rove over the hills and valleys as they slope and cradle what look to be small rural houses with dirt paths leading out and onto larger roads. He surveys the horizon, the sun still sitting high in the sky a deep and brilliant blue only slightly tinted green due to his visor. An intrusive thought, one that he can’t easily ignore or push away. His visor, which he would like to remove if not for the warped and scarred mass of skin that was now his face. He feels his mind roll back to those thoughts, only briefly forgotten as he had asked Zenyatta his questions, as he had taken in his surroundings. He felt off-kilter once again as if the last few minutes had never happened. Nature, other people, they were only temporary fixes. At the end of the day, he was still alone in his mind, having to deal with the endless parade of thoughts savagely trampling any semblance of peace. 

 

Zenyatta must have sensed his agitation because his hand rested briefly on his newly healed shoulder. His hands were cool, almost comforting, he tried to focus on that. “That’s not even my real shoulder he’s touching. I can’t even see this with my face bared”, he thinks, a familiar ache building in his throat, his jaw clenched. He’s sinking back into that wonderfully comfortable pit of self-loathing, the one he had just crawled out of earlier this morning for a short time, the one he would continually return back to. It was a deep feeling, an almost spiritual pain that had long since become physical, a sickness that he couldn’t easily shake off. Zenyatta’s voice suddenly cut through the haze of sudden regret, and anguish. “Genji, I brought you here because as I said there are many ways to clear the mind. Only with a clear head will you be able to see what you truly wish to do.” 

 

Genji feels sick to his stomach, his mind is racing, his pulse is loud in his ears, his throat hurts. “I can’t do that”, he answered his voice hoarse around the edges “I can’t clear my mind. I thought I could. I did for awhile when you were talking to me when we were walking up the trail but everything’s back”, he says, his tone tainted again with frustration. “This was a waste of my time.” 

 

Zenyatta looks at him, his hand still firmly on his shoulder, he looks at the horizon a sudden breeze swaying the trees below. “I do not think so.” 

 

“Of course you wouldn’t”, he answers harshly. 

 

“It was not a waste of time. We did learn something.” 

 

“That you’re far too optimistic?”

 

“Perhaps. But we now know that by conversing with someone you are able to clear your mind, by being out in nature you can be at peace. If only momentarily.” 

 

“Yeah, it’s that momentarily part that’s the problem.” 

 

“Yes, but once you identify what the problem is you can come to a solution. You may only be able to clear your mind in this way for now, but it will not always remain so.”

 

“I don’t think that’s possible”, he says beginning to grow weary of the monk’s insistence.

 

“I will have to have faith for the both of us then.” 

 

“I never said I would let you help me.” 

 

“Ah, but you did allow me to lead you out here.” 

 

“Only so I could figure out this debt I owe you! You told me to think about who I was doing this for, why I’m doing this, and I still haven’t figured it out!”, he says angrily, finally tiring of the whole ordeal. He crosses his arms over his chest, his hands itching for his sword, for his shuriken, to push, to punch, to do something. Zenyatta has said nothing so far, he’s merely let him stand there teetering on the verge of some kind of violent outburst. 

 

“Come with me then”, Zenyatta says finally just as Genji is managing to get a grip on himself. 

 

“What are you talking about?”, Genji rasps. 

 

“Come with me to Nepal”, Zenyatta answers simply. 

 

“Why would I do that?” 

 

“It’s my brother Mondatta”, he says with a wave of his hand “He worries that I will befall some disaster on the way back home. He fears that some of the villagers will not take kindly to the sight of an omnic, and try to cause me harm.” 

 

“He thinks someone might try to kill you before you make it back home?”, Genji asks blithely. 

 

“Precisely.” 

 

“So you want me to escort you back to Nepal? Seriously?” 

 

“I understand if you are not up to the task Genji. I am sure you have places to be, and that this would be out of your way.” 

 

“You’re right”, Genji lies. 

 

“I had thought so”, he sighs “But I had thought that maybe it would solve this problem I’ve presented to you. You would have the opportunity to save me should any problem arise, fulfilling the life debt. Or perhaps the change of scenery would help to clear your mind. If you choose to accompany me you are by all means welcome to stay and visit the monastery. If not you are free to go on your way.”

 

“Hah”, he says, his voice weary “You must really think you’re clever”, Genji says feeling deflated. 

 

“Not at all”, Zenyatta replies, all calm tones, and sincerity. 

 

“Either way I would benefit. I would be a fool to refuse your offer”, he says. “Especially when I have nothing better to do, and nowhere better to go”, he thinks, a rueful smile trying to work its way on his face. 

 

“I will never force anything on you Genji. If you wish to accompany me you are welcome, if not I will understand”, he says, and Genji feels at once elated and ultimately foolish. 

 

The only thing to temper that pain of indecisiveness is the cool breeze washing over them. It comes in strongly from the west, the scent of rain and pine wafting in. They stand like that for long moments Zenyatta as tranquil as ever, Genji beside him trying to understand what he wants. Trying to come to terms with the fact that even though he could leave, even though he would like to move on, he can’t. There’s nowhere to go, nothing to do, no home to return to and that’s what stings most of all. He can’t see his way clearly, he can’t even think clearly, and so he heaves a long and heavy sigh, one that feels like it’s been in the depths of his body for months and had only surfaced now. They don’t speak as they make their way back down the path to the monastery. Genji turns his focus to the landscape as they traverse the path, tries to slow his thoughts along with his breathing, tries to listen intently to the sound of Zenyatta’s sure-footed steps just ahead of him. He considers Zenyatta’s words, they echo and rattle in his head with all the other voices. 

 

The words that stand out the most are the tentative invitation to the monastery. A tenuous form of acceptance, a potential opportunity for peace, to go somewhere where he might be understood. It’s only been months, but understanding and acceptance have been constantly evading his reach. He didn’t know where he stood with Zenyatta, they weren’t friends they had merely been thrown together more out of chance than necessity. But yet here he was giving him a chance to do as he pleased, to accept or refuse, to take on this journey or stay where he was. Either way, the choice was ultimately up to him, and that felt significant. The past few months, his life had been in the hands of other people; those who thought they could kill him, save him, help him. He remembers Angela’s face looming over him, her head haloed by the light of the operating room. His life and body seemingly made a bargaining chip to help disassemble the clan. He had been so consumed with rage that he hadn’t thought twice about it. Options stolen away, decisions made for him, his fate ripped from his hands and given to someone else to control, the unruly sparrow crammed into a cage too small.

 

He looked to Zenyatta, his robes just skimming the robotic form that lay underneath. He didn’t understand him at all. His dauntless nature; it baffled and confounded him, he had threatened to kill him, insulted him, refused his help, and yet the monk had extended his aid without a thought or a word about it. What did he stand to gain? “A friend perhaps”, comes the answer sounding suspiciously like the monk’s voice, even toned and deep. What did he stand to gain by staying here? Nothing. What did he stand to gain from going with him? He wasn’t sure, but probably more than if he remained stagnant. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained”, said that stern voice in the back of his head that sounded far too close to Hanzo. It was becoming troublesome that he could still hear it so clearly. 

 

They had arrived at the monastery just as the monks were finishing their meditation. Some of the younger monks flocked around Zenyatta inquiring as to where he had gone, he didn’t elaborate, and the children playfully chided him. Genji watched from afar, he admired the ease with which he interacted with them and how they all seemed to adore him. He slipped off to his room after watching a few moments longer. 

 

He stayed there lying on the floor, listening to the low murmurs of the monk’s voices, straining to hear if Zenyatta was amongst them. He mulled over his situation well into the night, he hated brooding like this it was more suited to Hanzo who would often analyze and overthink whatever situation he was presented with. This was one of the many reasons he had stayed out late so many nights, given the chance he could overthink everything to the point of exhaustion, caught in some kind of mobius loop. His thoughts begin to wander as the light slowly fades away into twilight, he thinks of those days at the compound, the training. One of Hanzo’s rare smiles offered up as he swears that for a brief moment he had cleared his mind during meditation. “Perhaps there is hope for you after all”, he says ruffling his hair as he passes. Genji smiles in spite of himself, any praise Hanzo offered was something to be savored. “Hey, don’t mess up my hair”, he says weakly, a smile still on his face. Hanzo looks on incredulously “You mean that carrot top”, he says his hand swatting playfully at his green locks, newly dyed a shocking shade of green. 

 

“I don’t hear anyone complaining.”

 

“You must not be listening closely enough then.”

 

Genji laughs. Things were easier back then, his mother was still alive, his father not so absorbed in his work, Hanzo wasn’t so taciturn. He rolls over onto his side, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss it but things change, and the inability to adapt meant even greater hardships. With that thought in mind he lets sleep overtake him, he intends to wake early the next morning.

 

He wakes a few hours later than he would’ve liked, the morning sun already spilling heavily into his room. He wakes slowly, rolling his shoulders, flexing his fingers, taking in deep breaths, he doesn’t need to stretch anymore it’s merely a force of habit. He trudges down the hallway only slightly groggy until he finds himself in front of Zenyatta’s room. The door is open already, he peers inside to see the monk out of his normal robes and only sporting a pair of yellow pants, a sash tied around his waist. His eyes follow the sleek gleaming lines of his body, he can’t really place what intrigues him about the monk’s physique, it’s so different from his own. Before he can think about it too much Zenyatta turns and greets him warmly “Good morning Genji. I trust you slept well”, he asks.

 

“I did”, honesty this time.

 

“I am glad to hear it”, he answers brightly, neatly folding his ochre robes and stashing them in a small worn looking rucksack. 

 

“You’re leaving already”, Genji says, a statement not a question.

 

“It is best if I leave early.”

 

“At 11:30”, he says knowingly.

 

“Time is an illusion”, he replies airily.

 

Genji snorts. Leave it to him to come up with such an answer. “It is good that we both slept in then. The very least you could have done is tell me when you planned to leave.”

 

Zenyatta looks up from his bag, “You have chosen to accompany me then?” he asks, does he sound hopeful? Genji thinks belatedly.

 

“I have, but I’m not sure about remaining at the monastery”, he says feeling oddly excited about the prospect of the ensuing trip. If Zenyatta could change expressions, he’s sure he would be wearing a look of elation. “Thank you”, he says and Genji feels warm, and humbled all at the same time. 

 

“Shall we go?” Zenyatta asks, gesturing to the courtyard. Genji nods as they make their way outside, the monks gather around them bidding them a safe and peaceful journey. The young boy who had woken Genji up his first-day taps his arm gently, Genji turns to face him, the boy’s eyes wide with something akin to admiration. “Take good care of teacher”, he says pointing to Zenyatta. He’s not sure why but the remark catches him off guard, he’s briefly glad that his face is hidden so no one can see how flustered he is. He merely nods to the boy who smiles at him before turning to hug Zenyatta. They wave their goodbyes and make their way out of the gate, and onto the path the same scent of pine heavy in the air, the swifts soaring overhead in a lazy circle.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zenyatta and Genji take a detour through India and Genji finds out a bit about the monk's past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments. I'm hoping to get chapters out on a weekly basis.

“Do you think we’ll see any brown bears around here?”, that was the first question he had asked excitedly of his father as they had slipped into the swirling thermal waters of the onsen. He was only 8 at the time, and this was their first trip together outside the compound in the last few years. His mother had prescribed it as she had gazed at the dour expression of her husband, his brow furrowed for hours in contemplation over papers and negotiations that had fallen through. Genji remembers the exact moment the trip had become more than a fleeting notion and solidified into reality. She had come up behind him, hands on the broad shoulders that Hanzo would go on to inherit, kissed the side of his face and said, “You’re working too hard.”

 

”To be fair when am I not doing that”, he protested. She shook her head wearing a long-suffering expression. “This time it’s too much”, she said circling around to stand in front of him, a single fluid motion. His eyes followed her but then flickered down to the tall piles of paperwork on his desk. “You can’t continue this way Sojiro”, she said her hands on her hips “If you do-”, her words cut off abruptly by a choked sob causing his father a look of concern. 

 

She brings a hand to her forehead as if trying to gather her thoughts “If you do” she continues “I’m afraid you’re going to be stuck looking like this forever”, she says dropping the look of concern, she turns in place with a dramatic spin, her arms crossing her chest, hunching her back, and making a comical grimace, eyebrows knitted together. He and Hanzo had been observing the theatrics of their parents from the open doorway, they both stifled a laugh as their mother continued her dramatics. His father looked briefly taken aback before laughing softly. He shook his head in dismay as he pulled away from his desk to kiss his wife, as his sons moaned from the doorway with embarrassment. 

 

“You have to admit that face would probably scare my associates into compliance”, he said with a chuckle. 

 

“But at what cost to your adoring wife?”, his mother cried “I don’t always want to kiss a face that looks like this”, she said manipulating his impressive eyebrows down, and using her perfectly manicured fingers to turn down the corners of his mouth into a weak frown. 

 

He laughed again, a few days later they were on their way to Asahikawa. They had gone through many different options but had chosen Asahikawa due to his father’s love for the onsen, and his and Hanzo’s love for the zoo. He had bounced with excitement as they traversed through the tittering crowd, making their way into the walk-through penguin aquarium, and had marveled as the penguins dived and wove their nimble bodies through the water. Hanzo was more subdued in his appreciation of the trip, but he could tell he was happy to be there. They ended a long day of sightseeing in the comfort of the onsen, their mother next door lounging and talking amicably with the other women. 

 

Genji had repeated his question about the bears. His father didn’t answer right away he was laying back, his arms around each son’s shoulders, reveling in the warmth of the water. “It’s possible”, he said looking thoughtful “They are native to this region.” 

 

Hanzo just snorted “Why would you want to see one now? You’re naked in here. What if it tries to attack you?”, he asks. 

 

Genji, with all the confidence and naivete of an 8-year boy, scoffs loudly as he rolls his shoulders back, full of bravado. “He won’t have time to”, he proclaims “Not before I land 3 punches on him, hah!”, he shouts, punching the air in quick succession and flexing his small bicep. 

 

Hanzo rolls his eyes. “With your tiny arms the bear will think he’s being attacked by a fly”, he says poking his arm for emphasis. “These are the arms of a true warrior”, he says with a smug grin on his face as he flexes his own only slightly larger arms. Genji balks at his brother’s words “Yeah right”, he says dismissively.

 

“Come now you two, this isn’t a competition”, his father chides “Because if it was we all know who would win.” The two brothers look at each other wondering which one of them would be victorious if pitted against this phantom bear they’ve imagined. Their father looks between them before a huge grin spreads across his face “Me”, he proclaims as a familiar voice drifts over from the women’s side “Ugh!”. The three Shimada men laugh for the next few minutes discussing protocol for such an attack, and if it really was possible to punch a bear so hard that you’d knock him unconscious. 

 

Genji thinks on that trip with fondness. Of course, everything wasn’t always as perfect as that whirlwind vacation to Asahikawa. There were still arguments, plans that turned into bloody firefights, disappointments, illness, and the finality of death. But for a brief moment, there had been nothing to distract him from that glimmer of perfection, of comfort. He thought about that trip as he and Zenyatta continued their trek. It was a nice distraction from the blistering heat that they were now enduring as they made their way back to India. After a few quick questions, Genji had gleaned that they had first met in Bhutan. It was north of Nepal by a good number of miles, and of course, Zenyatta had to complicate things and insist on going south, explicitly ignoring the Nepalese border in favor of sight-seeing. Genji protested loudly for long moments before Zenyatta explained that there was a certain temple he was eager to visit on the way back and to please indulge him. Genji agreed after weakly stating that the monk owed him one and had followed him off into the throng of people. 

 

They made their way to Bangladesh, and although Genji was genuinely annoyed at the detour he would be loathed to admit that he wasn’t slightly looking forward to going back. He hadn’t been able to see much of India, his time preoccupied with his pursuer and his own survival. But he had enjoyed what he had seen of India before he had to flee for his life; the sights, the sounds, the smells, had all intrigued and enticed him. They passed through the crowd with few glances, Genji wasn’t sure if he was less aware of it due to the monk’s presence or if he was simply learning not to care. There still was a certain level of discomfort he felt, boxed in on all sides by people, just waiting for something to go wrong, some snide comment, some attack he would have to dodge. His fears were unfounded though as Zenyatta led him through the mass of people by the hand, a firm unyielding grip. Genji was surprised by the strength of his hold, his hands by no means looked fragile, but it still briefly shocked him. 

 

From there they went on to Dinajpur with no mishaps. Genji was oddly grateful that they had not traveled too far south, he had agreed to the prospect of the journey as a means of escape but even so, he didn’t wish to wander aimlessly, he had done a great deal of that already. The push and pull of travel, the prospect of new places, the mental planning drowned out the chaotic thoughts of the past. If he focused hard enough he could silence the cacophony in his head, the constant movement from place to place aiding his efforts. It never stayed quiet for long. But he felt a sense of numb and insolent resignation about it, not trying to dwell on his failed attempts at peace for long. One thing he wasn’t sure of was how he felt about the Shambali monk. His tireless kindness, his insistence that Genji could overcome problems that had been borne deep in his soul for years grew tiresome, and he found his optimism annoying and naive in the face of the harsh realities of the world. Even so, he found himself indulging in the monk’s desire to see the Kantaji temple with nothing more than a put-upon sigh. 

 

On first sight the temple was impressive, on closer inspection though, it was breathtaking. Genji now understood why Zenyatta had been so adamant about coming here as he stepped up to examine the exquisite level of detail in the terra cotta carvings. No space left unattended, no angle left unconsidered each available square foot was adorned with animals, figures or floral decoration. Genji crouched down to observe a frieze featuring a procession of elephants, their long graceful trunks curving as they strode along to create a striking sense of rhythm. He briefly wished he had a camera to document the temple, but he hadn’t bothered to bring the few belongings he owned when he had left Overwatch. His departure was too abrupt, he had left a note hastily written after the death of the final clansman, taped on his door as he stealthily made his way out from Gibraltar. He had told himself at the time that he would not be missed, a poor tactic to alleviate the sting of leaving, he knew better. He had formed some strong friendships with the Overwatch agents, he would especially miss McCree with his southern drawl, constant banter, and his propensity for as he called it ‘Southern hospitality’. He had made him feel at home, but he had always known in the back of his mind that he wasn’t meant to stay. He watches Zenyatta as he draws close to the wall to observe the intricate detail of the architecture “Beautiful”, he says, his tone almost reverent.

 

“It is”, Genji agrees “I can see now why you wanted to come here.”

 

“Yes, I’ve always had a fondness for India’s temples, but I’ve never had a chance to come here until now. Thank you for indulging me.”

 

“It’s not for free you know. You still owe me one”, Genji says, suddenly in a teasing mood.

 

“Genji this was an invaluable experience.”

 

“Sounds like someone just doesn’t want to be indebted to me.”

 

“That depends entirely on what type of creditor you would be. Can I expect all of my personal effects taken as collateral?”

 

“You’re a monk. Do you even have personal effects?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Anything that would be worth taking though?”

 

“If your conduct is determined solely by considerations of profit you will arouse great resentment.”

 

“Ok, so what you’re saying is that you have nothing worth taking then.”

 

Zenyatta laughed, a warm and deep chortle that still sent a shiver down Genji’s spine. He would like to hear more of that glorious sound, wrap himself in it and discover each new shape it could take, ensure that it happened often so that the air was consistently permeated with it. Perhaps he should find that desire strange, maybe even worrying, but he’s too distracted by the monk’s sun warmed hand on his arm. “I have much to offer you, my friend, though I fear it is not based solely in material possessions”, he said happily.

 

“Let me guess, it’s in more proverbs”, Genji says feeling slightly flushed.

 

“Perhaps, perhaps not”, Zenyatta answered teasingly “I suppose you will have to wait and find out.”

 

Zenyatta turned and walked off to observe more of the temple, Genji following closely at his heels, feeling far warmer than the sun could have made him. 

 

After a thorough visit of the Kantaji temple Genji found himself feeling slightly overheated. They ducked into an open air cafe’, all modern appliances and gleaming high-tech brewing machines nestled amongst traditional architecture. Genji buys a cup of tea out of some kind of compulsive need for normalcy and not so much because he can drink it. Food for him was no longer a requirement of his anatomy but more a rare novelty, something to indulge in solely for pleasure, not for nourishment. Even if he had needed to eat he wouldn’t do it in the company of so many people, exposing his face was a still source of discomfort and anxiety, and he didn’t need scrutinizing eyes mapping out the mass of scars that marred his face. He remained silent as Zenyatta sat across from him observing the people in their comings and goings. Thoughts about the current state of his life, of his body, crept in quickly as if they merely were lying in wait for a lull in the action. A temporary fix as always. He had been so transfixed by the grandiose beauty of the temple, the sound of Zenyatta’s laugh punctuating their gentle banter, that he had forgotten about how things were. How they would remain. An inevitability.

 

“I didn’t know you enjoyed black tea”, Zenyatta says, inclining his head to the cup still clutched in his hand. Genji puts the teacup down slightly harder than necessary, it makes a finite thud against the wood, sloshing the contents up and out onto the table. He stares at the splash of tea before answering. “I don’t”, he says “I just didn’t want anyone to bother us about sitting around here when we haven’t bought anything.” 

 

“I doubt anyone would have caused us trouble”, Zenyatta answers, seemingly unconcerned. 

 

“Better to be careful”, he says wiping the tea away with his hand, it does little, the water slides along his fingers. 

 

“Why the concern?”

 

“You’re an omnic”, he explains “I look close to one despite being a cyborg”, he says the word quickly as if it burned his tongue. “People look at us and just assume we are going to cause problems. I don’t want to give them any kind of reason to”, he says giving up on the spilled tea and pushing the cup aside. 

 

Zenyatta steeples his fingers in front of him, Genji briefly considers their length, their elegant design. “I had wondered about that. I know no omnics with a build such as your’s. I had thought you were both, a miraculous blending of man and machine.” 

 

“Stop it”, Genji says sourly “You speak as if it’s something to be admired. It’s not.” 

 

“You truly don’t think so?”, Zenyatta asks. 

 

“Would you? I’m not one or the other”, he says suddenly sick with anger “I’m a freak.”

 

“Please do not speak of yourself that way Genji”, Zenyatta says, his tone pleading. As if he was personally wounded that Genji would talk about himself that way. 

 

“It’s true though”, he says, his voice low and clipped with hurt. “I can’t even drink this tea normally”, he says jabbing a finger at the cup. “People look at me like I’m not even a man anymore. They only see an omnic, not what’s underneath all this”, he says angrily rapping his fingers against his arm, the sound of metal on metal only agitating him further. 

 

“They don’t even care”, he continues miserably “They just see what I look like and make assumptions”, he says his fingers tapping a furious tattoo on his arm, his knee bobbing quickly in place, his whole body a sweltering coiled mass of anxiety. The vents on his shoulders startle him with a sudden release of steam, he jolts out of his chair huffing in long drags of air, clutching at his chest, trying to calm down. The other patrons look at him in alarm, he looks around suddenly aware of his body, suddenly embarrassed, claustrophobic. “Let’s go”, he says quietly. Zenyatta nods, moving with him until they are safely outside. He feels dizzy, he can’t believe he had let all of that spill out to the monk it was shameful, pitiful. Zenyatta stands beside him, his orbs moving at a glacial pace as if to pacify him. He feels out of breath and the intense heat isn’t helping. 

 

“Breathe”, Zenyatta urges “Focus on your breathing.” 

 

Genji wants to laugh but can’t summon the energy to. “Can’t”, he says breathlessly “I never could.” 

 

Zenyatta puts a hand on his back, the other on his chest, trying to keep him upright, trying to steady him. “Do not let the past hinder your progress now. You are capable of whatever you choose to do.” 

 

Genji doesn’t answer, he just stands there in Zenyatta’s tenuous embrace. He looks around, there are some people staring, but they quickly avert their eyes as if they’ve seen something intimate. He shakes his head he doesn’t care anymore, he’s too tired to care. He leans on Zenyatta for support worrying briefly that he’ll topple the monk with his weight. Zenyatta doesn’t bend, he bears his weight easily as he continues reassuring him through the feeling, helping him to ride it out. He focuses on Zenyatta’s words in his ear “Breathe. It’s just you and I. Close your eyes and focus only on your breath.” 

 

He obeys easier than he thought he would. He listens to his reassurances, focuses on the hands supporting him, listens to his own breathing until finally, the feeling has passed. He stands up straighter, hyper-aware of the fact that Zenyatta’s hands are still holding him “You can let go now”, he says. Zenyatta’s hands retreat slowly and Genji finds the loss of contact unwelcome but chooses not to say anything. “Are you certain you’re alright?”, Zenyatta asks still standing close by. 

 

“I am fine”, he says slowly, trying to see if that statement was really true.

 

“You need not push yourself”, Zenyatta says “We will reach our destination in due time.” 

 

The monk leads Genji over to a nearby bench stationed under a large tree. Genji sits down, still not sure what happened to make him reveal his feelings that way. 

 

“I owe you an apology”, Zenyatta says, remorse evident in his voice.

 

"What have you done?”, Genji asks, bewildered. 

 

“I believe my comment is what caused your ordeal and for that, I am truly sorry.” 

 

Genji looks at him, his head bowed, his shoulders hunched with regret. He considers adding to his guilt, but can’t bring himself to do it as he remembers the hands that held him only moments ago. He instead waves him off. “Don’t worry. I’ve been like this for a long time, it’s not your fault.” 

 

“Even so…”

 

“I said it’s fine. I’m sure you’ll make it up to me some other kind of way”, he says, trying to wade through the haze of regret and anger that had come over him. He gets up, rolls his shoulders back, force of habit. “We should be on our way”, he says, his eyes surveying the darkening sky overhead, the early evening stars already coming to life with a full-bodied glow. Zenyatta wordlessly follows behind him as they walk back onto the sidewalk, the outburst all but forgotten and washed away like tender footprints in the sand.

 

After a few hastily asked questions about accommodations for the night Genji finds out that monks don’t usually carry cash. Just when he was about to launch head first into a heated diatribe about his traveling companion’s lack of forethought, Zenyatta explained that he knew someone nearby who had agreed to let them spend the night. As grateful as he was to not have to endure a night sleeping on the ground the prospect of more people put him oddly on edge. Before he could lob any protests however, Zenyatta was leading him down a well-lit street lined with modern style houses and apartment buildings. They’re greeted on the street by an omnic, he’s tall in stature, with a similar build as Zenyatta, and sports two gleaming blue dots upon his forehead. “Master Zenyatta”, he says warmly “It’s a pleasure to see you again”, he says bowing deeply at the waist. “And you my pupil”, Zenyatta replies, bowing back before pulling him into a quick hug. 

 

The omnic introduces himself as Ajit, an omnic Zenyatta had met when the Shambali were merely a small group of omnics residing in the Himalayas and not the internationally known order they were now. He had been caught in the middle of the war, not pledging allegiance to either side he had run looking for refuge from the fighting and destruction. Zenyatta had found him wandering along the border of Nepal one cold early morning and had led him back to the small but newly obtained monastery. “He saved my life”, Ajit said emphatically as he led them down the street to his home, the purple and orangish-pink hues of twilight giving way to the dark blues of night. “I merely brought you to the monastery. I hardly think that qualifies as saving your life”, Zenyatta says, sounding only slightly embarrassed by the high praise. “Don’t discount your accomplishments”, Ajit says in a tone and manner that sounds almost identical to Zenyatta, Genji can’t help but chuckle. They make it to his house a few moments later, a modern apartment building; all stylishly large glass panel windows complimented by small patios and a courtyard lushly covered in grass and flowers. 

 

The sky is completely dark as the omnic opens the door of his apartment, his space is small but remarkably tidy, a pair of women’s sandals sits by the door. Genji’s eyes dart to them, and then to the young woman walking towards them. “Ah, my love. My most radiant lady!” Ajit cries as if he’s some pining romantic hero. His lady is short, her skin a rich shade of umber, her hair in a neat asymmetrical cut. “Always so dramatic”, she chides, slipping next to him to kiss the side of his faceplate. Genji is momentarily baffled by the gesture. The woman introduces herself as Laksha, Ajit’s fiance’, which elicits a hearty congratulation from Zenyatta and a stiff approval from Genji. They had met during Holi in Nepal, she had been about to spray her friend in an array of orange and blues and had hit him instead “And the rest is history”, he said arm wrapped around her shoulders. The night continued in that vein for many hours, the happy couple telling stories of their time together, the city, their travels. Genji listens tentatively, his thoughts turned elsewhere. They remind him of how his parents used to be, happy, always trading quips, obviously still deeply in love. Genji still wonders how these two have made their relationship work, didn’t they question how people would react to such a thing? Weren’t they fearful of the hardships that would arise due to their union? How would they reconcile the discrepancy of their bodies, flesh against metal? There were too many questions in his mind, some far too prying for his liking.

 

The conversation doesn’t turn to them until Laksha has a plate of food in front of her, she sits back down with a shy smile “Even though I know you don’t need to eat I still feel bad eating in front of you”, she says addressing the table. Zenyatta and Ajit tell her to continue normally, Genji says nothing his eyes turned to enviously admire a bowl of daal. Once Laskha has begun eating, quietly slurping the daal off a piece of naan, do questions about what Zenyatta was doing in Bhutan come up. He tells them of his time at the monastery and the newly formed bond between them and the Shambali. Ajit and Laksha are elated. “If you were in Bhutan why didn’t you go straight to Nepal?” Ajit asks. Genji stifles a snicker “My thoughts exactly”, he says elbowing the monk. “The path of life is not a linear one”, Zenyatta says adopting a more authoritative tone.

 

“No, apparently it’s circular and over 100 miles in one direction”, Genji says.

 

Ajit laughs. “Yes, don’t let him fool you Genji. He told me a similar thing when he wanted to find a particular flower at the market, we spent several hours looking for it only to be told that it wasn’t even in bloom. Then when I expressed my agitation he said time is an illusion”, he says sitting up straighter, moving his hand in a half arc, his voice almost identical to Zenyatta’s. Genji throws his head back with laughter, Laksha nearly spits out her food, Zenyatta says nothing but merely shakes his head. “If I had known the night would develop this way I would have brought a jester’s cap”, he says sounding only mildly dismayed. It takes them 2 minutes before the chuckles have finally ceased, Genji hasn’t laughed like this in a long time, he’s missed it. 

 

“So are you thinking of training under master Zenyatta?” Ajit asks inclining his head in Genji’s direction. Genji is suddenly at a loss for words “Ah, I’m not sure” he stammers. 

 

“I understand”, he says “I wasn’t sure at first either, but I’m glad I did. It’s a strange thing to go against your purpose. Not everyone can do it. But the best part of staying with Master Zenyatta and the other Shambali was that I learned that no one can dictate how your life should be. That’s a choice for you to make.” 

 

Genji considers his words. Rarely was it that easy.

 

Genji realizes 3 minutes into an impromptu game of pictionary that he was never adept at art and that his father had lied to him multiple times as he had surveyed his crayon drawings at the age of 6, proudly declared him the next Rembrandt, and hung them on the wall of his office. After 5 minutes he gives up because Zenyatta has guessed a whale, a fast moving train, and a man fanning himself. “It was a mountain range covered with clouds”, he says sullenly as they lose the game, and Laksha apologizes again that their television is busted. They wind down the evening slowly, Ajit washes the dishes while Laksha sets up their beds. 

 

Genji slinks out to sit on the patio, blistering heat has given way to a balmy evening, a breeze wafts the scent of jasmine from the garden below, a waning moon hangs high amidst a thick swath of stars. Zenyatta joins him moments later “I trust you enjoyed the evening?”, he asks sitting down next to him.

 

“I did”, he answers honestly. It was a nice evening he thinks, probably one of the best he’s had in a long time, probably the best he’ll ever have he thinks with a hint of sadness. He hadn’t even had time to let the constant noise in his head distract him, he was grateful for that, no matter how fleeting it ultimately was. “I like them”, he says “They seem to be a fun couple.” 

 

Zenyatta nods in agreement “It is always nice to see new love blossoming especially for a couple as vibrant as those two”, he says happily. Genji looks up to the night sky he can identify only a few constellations, Hanzo was more adept at navigating the sky even without the use of a telescope. “Do you think they’ll be alright?”, he asks suddenly.

 

“What are you referring to?”

 

“Them. Their marriage. Do you think they’ll be able to make it work?”

 

“I imagine they will. From what I’ve observed they have a strong love for each other.”

 

“Is that enough, though?”

 

“Love can weather many things it can also cover a great many faults. They will still face hardships either by their own design or others, but I’m certain they will overcome them. ”

 

Genji’s not sure if he believes that or not. There were so many variables that ran in and outside of that relationship, expectations, other people, their own feelings. Would it be possible? He had never given thought to omnics as more than what their intended purpose was, looking back on that now he realized how narrow-minded he had been. Omnics may as well be human the only things distinguishing them from people were their gleaming metal bodies, their wires, pistons. Did it matter whether they were made and not born? That their minds were crafted by human hands? Genji didn’t think so. Their feelings, their dreams, were all very real. No one could manufacture Zenyatta’s wit, nor Ajit’s deep affection for his soon to be wife. Whether it was by design or not they had grown into their own existence and become something more than machine. 

 

Genji contemplated his own duality, man and omnic, never fitting into either category completely. He wondered if it was ever meant for him to find a place to belong, would someone be willing to accept him? He wasn’t sure. “I never thought of humans and omnics coming together in a romantic sense”, Genji says abruptly, trying to distract himself, trying not to let his thoughts overtake him. Zenyatta is still surveying the night sky as he answers “It’s understandable, it is after all still perceived as unnatural. There are still many people in the world who would see me and feel the need to attack”.

 

Genji scoffs “Everywhere we go people adore you”, he says emphatically.

 

“Well, we haven’t been everywhere”, Zenyatta replies amiably. 

 

“They would, though”, Genji insists, not sure why he’s so adamant about it “You’re kind to a fault, funny, frustratingly wise, who wouldn’t like you?”

 

“You flatter me Genji, but despite all you’ve said I’m afraid there would still be some who wouldn't take to the company of an omnic. Even one, as you say, as frustratingly wise as myself”, he says a hint of pride coloring his voice.

 

“But the war was so long ago.”

 

“But not easily forgotten. It remains like a scar on the hearts and minds of many people. I do not blame them for their feelings, in many cases, their fears were justified.”

 

“But you would never have tried to attack anyone.”

 

“Well, even if I had they didn’t give me a chance to.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Although the crisis had ended before I was born the distrust for omnics was still very high. Although most of us had proven ourselves not to be a threat there were some who had caused trouble. It was for that reason that they came to see us all as a potential threat, and deemed that I and the others be decommissioned.”

 

Decommissioned. He made it sound so technical. Couldn’t he just say that they had planned to kill him? The thought made his mouth twist into a deep frown. 

 

“What did you do before the Shambali?”, he asks, trying to distract himself from the thought of someone trying to do away with the monk.

 

“I ran diagnostics. Conceiving and reworking algorithms to determine whether the behavior of a system was running correctly. My brother Mondatta did the same, although he was a slightly more flashy model”, he says with a bit of a chuckle. 

 

“It’s hard to think of you as anything, other than what you are now”, Genji admits.

 

“A kite flies on a string, not a stick.”

 

Genji groans “Can’t you speak normally?”

 

“I could.”

 

“Then why don’t you?”

 

Zenyatta laughs lightly, and Genji sits up a little straighter. 

 

“I will consider it when it becomes less amusing to see you so put off”, he says, his tone teasing and playful. 

 

“Oh, so that’s how it is? You know it’s not wise to tease a dr-”, he cuts himself off, he was about to give himself away.

 

“Not wise to tease a what?”, Zenyatta inquires.

 

“Nevermind. Forget it”, he says pushing away bitter agitation “So back to the story, how did you end up here if they were planning to decommission you?”

 

“It’s not a terribly interesting story I’m afraid.”

 

“That’s fine”, Genji says encouragingly.

 

Zenyatta looks contemplative. Genji suddenly feels a stab of guilt, he realizes that he’s essentially asking the monk to relive his near death experience, an experience that’s sure to be painful. If Zenyatta had ever dared to ask him about the night Hanzo had attempted to kill him, sword glinting in the moonlight and teeth bared, he would’ve left in a fit of rage by now. But Zenyatta seems calm, he speaks slowly, his orbs hang lazily in the air.

 

“It was an early morning procedure”, he explains “They had felt guilty because none of us in my group had exhibited any signs of a god program or any form of aggression. They were merely doing it as precautionary measure.” 

 

“That’s a nice way of saying they were planning to kill you.” 

 

“In so many words yes.” 

 

Genji suddenly feels ill “You don’t have to continue talking about that. Just tell me how you got out of there.”

 

“It was mostly thanks to Mondatta. He had spoken to me the night before, we often spoke he and I, about a great many things. I believe people assumed we were talking only about protocol, algorithms, digits, equations. But early on we realized, why constrict ourselves? The world is more than protocols and numbers. Its experiences, color, sound, we could experience all these things. True, we were born with one goal in mind but we were given a choice, a mind to think and reason, why not fully take advantage of that? 

 

He had proposed to me that there was no rational reason for us to be decommissioned, and considering everything we should leave. Especially considering some of our brothers were just coming into the knowledge that we could live beyond our purpose. It was for that reason that we decided to flee.”

 

“How did you get away?” 

 

“We had an intimate knowledge of the AI that fueled their whole facility. It only took a few short by-pass codes to have them shut out. We made our escape from there. We were outcasts, we had escaped with the knowledge that we would have to be that way for many years. But despite it all, we were excited, we realized that we didn’t have to live by the rules they had set for us, we could live our own lives, set new goals for ourselves, challenge the standards created for omnics. But we would have to conceal ourselves from the public eye, every omnic found at that point was killed with extreme prejudice. I understand why of course”, he cuts himself off, he looks at the garden laid out below the patio, a stretch of green entangled with orchids and blue poppy. His voice sounds wistful, almost broken with a deep and heavy nostalgic sadness “But there were some of us who never made it to the safety of Nepal”, he says quietly, his gaze still fixed on the flowers below.

 

Genji has never felt a desire to comfort someone as intensely as he does in that moment. Without a second thought, his hand comes to rest on Zenyatta’s knee. Zenyatta looks down to observe the contact and covers Genji’s hand with his own, the coolness of his palm now familiar. 

 

“We spent many years there in obscurity”, Zenyatta continues, the feelings of sadness apparently shaken off. “We meditated on our existence, what that meant, and who we would be now. Years later when we thought the scars of war were not as fresh we began to journey outside. People found us an oddity, a novelty at first, but then people began to listen. Soon we had garnered followers and notoriety. It wasn’t long before we were heard about in places we had never even dreamed of, our message reaching the hearts of more people than we could have imagined.”

 

He sounds so delighted that Genji can’t help but smile. Zenyatta is quiet after that, the story seemingly over, his thoughts turned over to silent observation of the night sky. Genji doesn’t try to fill the silence with noise instead he focuses on the stars, the view of the flowers below, the intoxicating aroma of jasmine permeating the air around them. They stay like that for a long time, Genji’s hand still resting on Zenyatta’s knee, Zenyatta absently caressing his knuckles with his thumb. When they finally leave that quiet space to return inside Genji swears he can still feel Zenyatta’s fingers over his, a tingling phantom touch that is with him until sleep finally overtakes him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji and Zenyatta make their ascent to the monastery and meet with some resistance.

One. Two. Three. Four. Genji counts the money under his breath as he buys them train fare. Laksha had hastily shoved a small wad of crumpled bills into his hands the morning they had left saying Zenyatta would never accept it, and that she had enjoyed their company. She and Ajit bid them a safe trip from the doorway of their apartment as they made their way out onto the street and began the trek to the border. That was 3 days ago, they had a tight schedule to keep as Zenyatta had realized belatedly that the monsoons would soon be upon them and that their window to make the journey up to the monastery was quickly closing. When asked how strenuous a trek they would have to endure Zenyatta hadn’t answered right away. When pressed again he had merely said that it was far, by the time they reached it they would be surrounded by snow, the peaks of the other mountains visible from the door of the monastery. Genji was thankful that at the very least they weren’t attempting the journey in the dead of winter, but still wasn’t looking forward to what would have to be a hard hike. 

 

The train would only take them as far as Kathmandu, from there they would have to make the rest of the journey on foot or by jeep. He felt a certain level of apprehension tug at him as they rode along the tracks, the train swaying him and the other passengers along at a lulling pace. He hadn’t truly taken into account what escorting Zenyatta back home would mean, he knew it would be a long trip but he had failed to take into consideration the peril of trying to scale the mountain side. He had heard tales of Everest; a lone base camp, ferocious winds that could jostle and toss you from the precipice, the deadly cold. Zenyatta had assured him that they would not be going that far up, but that did nothing to assuage his uncertainty. For the first time in the past few months, he felt the cold pains of fear eat at his resolve. He hadn’t felt fear when he had gone back home to destroy the clan, he hadn’t even felt fear when he was sure the assassin was going to land the killing blow, his mind turned instead to the past, the petals of the cherry blossoms clouding his vision. 

 

Now when confronted with something so far out of his control he felt anxious, worried, scared. He pushed the feelings to the back of his mind as the train continued its meandering course through the countryside. He and Zenyatta were confined to a car at the back of the train they had the room mostly to themselves save for another man sitting opposite them, his coat hiked up to cover his face from the glare of the overhead lights, his baggage piled next to him haphazardly. The lull in the action sent his thoughts back on internal matters, the incessant rush of faces, memories, noise. The only thing keeping him grounded was the jostle of the train and Zenyatta’s stalwart presence by his side. As the train surged along the rails Genji tried to settle down, clear his mind, he was sure Zenyatta had experience with the trails and he had scaled high walls before, some of them at dizzying heights. So, then why was he so apprehensive? 

 

Zenyatta looked over to him, he didn’t realize it until that moment but he had been drumming his fingers against his arm, the agitated rhythm of metal on metal distracting Zenyatta from his view. “Are you alright Genji? You seem agitated”, he said smoothly. 

 

“I am fine”, Genji lied. It was foolish what he was feeling, there was no reason to be fearful. 

 

“There is no need to fret”, Zenyatta soothed, his lie obviously not fooling the monk “I have made the trek many times, we will be fine.” 

 

“As long as the weather doesn’t turn”, Genji offered weakly. 

 

“That is true”, Zenyatta answered. 

 

“What if it does?”, he asked, trying to keep the anxiety from coloring his tone. 

 

“Then we will simply have to wait to make our ascent.”

 

Genji nodded, Zenyatta didn’t seem to be concerned, but then again when was he ever? It seemed that no matter what happened the monk was beyond all worldly cares, his mind and spirit on some higher plane where fear and worry couldn’t reach him. Genji wondered if he would ever reach such a state, was it even possible? It seemed unlikely the way things were now. He looked out the window viridian fields dotted with trees rushed past, the mountains stood behind them white and imposing, cutting a jagged edge against the blue of the sky. Genji put his fear aside as he watched the landscape pass by, they would be at their destination soon there was no room for anxiety. 

 

There’s was the last stop. They disembarked with a handful of other passengers, their only other cab mate running ahead of them, his luggage trailing behind him until he was lost to the crowd. Genji considered them all, a mass of people weaving in and out of each other’s paths, a sea of strangers all thrown into the same space out of necessity. Not long ago, he would be feeling apprehension from the crowd and not the mountain that loomed off in the distance, their eyes seemingly fixated on his foreign anatomy, the amalgamation of man and machine. But now it failed to phase him, he didn’t know what had changed, but he allowed himself to indulge in the feeling not knowing how long it would last. Kathmandu had retained much of its original beauty, the city like so many others had its more modern architecture, but much of it remained the same as it had years ago. Zenyatta sighed next to him “It is always good to return home”, he said happily. 

 

Genji didn’t answer, his thoughts returned to the castle. The cherry blossoms in a perpetual state of bloom, his mother humming dated pop songs in the living room, an old Friedrich painting of 2 men observing the moon hanging on the wall in his father’s study, the room he and Hanzo shared for many years, a crimson pool staining the floor. Genji coughs, hoping the physical action will distract him, he can almost feel his lungs heave like they did that night. “Genji?”, Zenyatta asks, sounding concerned “Are you alright?” 

 

He takes in a long shuddering breath “I am fine”, he says, suddenly feeling a brief pain of guilt for always making the monk worry. “We should be going right?”, he asks, trying not to sound so shaken. 

 

“Yes”, Zenyatta answers “It is a long way up.”

 

“How far exactly?”, he asks looking at the mountain's peak. 

 

“If memory serves it took about 12 days to reach the monastery.” 

 

Genji balked “12 days?”

 

“Yes, but don’t fret. We will not have to endure the cold the entire journey, only near the end.” 

 

“Ah, I see that makes me feel better”, he said sourly. 

 

“Are you perhaps regretting your decision?”, Zenyatta asked he didn’t sound hurt, just curious. 

 

“No”, he answered, “I said I would escort you back and I will remain true to my word”, he said. His resolve, at least in this aspect, unbroken. He would get Zenyatta safely to the monastery and then from there, then what? Would he remain at the monastery? Would he leave? To go where? He had no purpose. “You did have one, but you already fulfilled it”, he thought. He could go looking for Hanzo, but he had the strange suspicion that even killing him wouldn’t sate the hollow ache of his soul. He would have to devise a new purpose, engineer a new place for himself in the world. “Zenyatta can help you with that”, said a devious voice in the back of his mind. He pushed aside those words, he liked Zenyatta he could admit that much to himself, but he doubted some old forgotten proverbs could quiet the discontent of his spirit. “Would it hurt to try?”, came the traitorous reply, he didn’t know and defiantly decided he didn’t care.

 

Upon further investigation, it turned out the monk had more of a plan than he had initially let on. The monastery was located close by Muktinath, a holy place that was home to several other monasteries as well as a temple by the same name. They would be making their way there via the Annapurna circuit and crossing through Thorung La pass. Genji was glad Zenyatta had a plan because he felt completely out of his depth, the thought of climbing those staggering heights still making his head spin. He didn’t have much time to contemplate the prospect of the climb before they were making their way by bus to Besisahar. By the time they reached their destination the sky was completely dark, the minimal light pollution allowing for a full and complete view of the stars, the Milky Way hanging above their heads like a great astral cloud. Genji had never seen so many stars, he staggered off the bus and craned his neck back to get a good view, completely awestruck. 

 

Zenyatta hovered nearby “It is beautiful isn’t it”, he said in a low voice as if not to disturb him. Genji could only nod in agreement as his eyes roved over the sky, the snow capped mountains hidden in the darkness. They stayed at a small guesthouse for the night, the accommodations minimal but welcome after a long day of traveling. Genji was just happy to have a bed to fall into as sleep ate at the edges of his vision. He yawned loudly as Zenyatta settled on the bed next to his, his orbs drifting around him in a slow languid circle, they sounded a sweet lilting note that reminded Genji briefly of a wind chime. “Do you need to sleep?’, he inquired rolling over and onto his stomach the low light of the gas lamp casting a dim glow throughout the room. “It is not always required, but it is a nice way to wind down the evening”, Zenyatta answered warmly, pulling back the covers and slipping underneath them. Genji watched him settle into the bed, the picture of contentment, he rolled onto his back his eyes trained on the ceiling. 

 

For long moments he tried to will himself to sleep, at once cursing and relishing in the fact that he still had to rely on such organic means of rest when the vast majority of his body was man made. He had asked Angela grimly from his sick bed, trying to grit his teeth through the worst of the pain, if he would still need to sleep, if for the most part, he would still be able to function as if nothing had happened. She had given him a sad smile, a smile that at the time had left him crestfallen and infuriated. She had told him frankly, that some things would not be the same, but thankfully sleep would still be necessary. Necessary, but not always achievable. He was plagued with nightmares; flashbacks of that ill-fated battle, quick flashes of the grueling surgery. He always woke up in a cold sweat trying to fight off the remnants of his terror, seeking out any means that would keep him from rest. He went weeks without sleep, still trying to function under his self-induced insomnia. It came to an end when Angela found him curled up on the watch tower having sleepwalked there. She had prescribed him sleeping pills which thankfully plunged him into a dreamless rest one where the yells, the glare of an operating light, and the glint of his brother’s sword couldn’t reach him. 

 

His dreams were few now, but there were still times where he hated having to fall asleep for fear that he would be transported back to that night in the castle, or those long agonizing hours spent on an operating table. He looked over to Zenyatta who presumably was already asleep. “Did he dream?”, he wondered. Could omnics even dream? And if they did what did they dream about? Did he ever get nightmares? If he was having a dream Genji couldn’t tell, he hadn’t moved once not even to turn over. He laid there motionless with his hands folded over his chest, the only movement came from the gentle rotation of his orbs, still chiming. Genji continued to watch them, their pace slowly lulling him to sleep, his dreams filled with a sky full of stars, a dragon moving swiftly across it like a brilliant firework. 

 

They woke early the next morning, no thanks to Zenyatta, who seemed content to sleep in until noon if his surprise when Genji shook him awake was any indication. “There is no rush Genji, we could always afford a few more hours of sleep, especially after such a strenuous day.” 

 

Genji, with all the brazenness of his youth, abruptly pulled the covers back exposing the rest of him to the cold mountain air “If it were up to you we’d be in bed until lunch. For someone who doesn’t need to sleep you definitely like sleeping late”, he said as Zenyatta stretched his arms above his head. “Could he even get stiff?”, Genji wondered idly. 

 

“It is nice to indulge from time to time”, Zenyatta offered.

 

Genji rolled his eyes “Time to time, is every day with you”, he said. 

 

Zenyatta laughed, and Genji’s face grew hot, “This is starting to get ridiculous”, he thought in dismay as Zenyatta ushered him out the door. The monk sought out a young guide, a well-groomed man with a weather worn looking jeep to drive them to Syange. From there they continued their trek on foot to Bahundanda, and on to cross the Marsyangdi river via a strong looking suspension bridge. The water swirled and eddied underneath them as they passed, the sunlight casting an almost ethereal hazy glow on the rocks and foliage below. They followed the river until they were inside the boundaries of the village of Jagat, with its stone buildings and breathtaking views of the river. The pair continued their hike by way of a slippery path that led up through a rhododendron forest, the trees flowering with fragrant reddish-purple blooms their petals swirling to create an enchanting flurry, the air thick with a honey-like aroma.

 

It was only when they reached a guest house in Chamje for the night, did Genji realize how many blooms had stayed with him, the space between the plates connecting his fingers clotted with errant petals. He tried to pick them out but found little luck. Zenyatta helped him after watching him struggle for a few moments, picking out the petals with deft and steady fingers. Zenyatta hummed while he worked, his orbs circling in a slow arc. “Had I known this would be such a problem I would have ushered you through the forest a little faster”, Zenyatta said as he set aside a few more petals on the bedside table. He watched as Zenyatta continued to work, one hand working to remove the remainder of the petals, the other holding his wrist in place, a gentle grip. He was close, so close Genji could hear the faint whir of his hardware again. The moment felt intimate, far too intimate for someone just escorting a monk back to his monastery. 

 

His mind strayed back to Ajit and Laksha, their tidy apartment, the simple engagement ring adorning Laksha’s finger. He thought about the monk sitting in front of him, this strange soul who had saved him, whose laughter still sent the best shivers down his spine, who had given him a choice of what to do with himself. If he was feeling bold he would call what he was feeling the beginnings of a crush, but he wasn’t bold, not in that aspect anymore. He had been too consumed with rage, too caught up in the past, his mind clouded with imaginings of revenge. There was no time for romantic entanglements. Even if there had been, he knew it couldn’t be like it was before, too self-conscious of his body and face to go very far. So he had let that part of his life go, resigning himself to the sad notion that there could never be anyone who would ignite that feeling for him again. He was beginning to see how wrong he was. He shook his head trying to dispel the thoughts, he decided instead to fill the space with chatter, anything to keep his mind from leading him astray. 

 

“How long have we been traveling for?”, he asked as Zenyatta dislodged another clump of petals from his circuitry. 

 

“I believe we have been traveling for 5 days now. It should take us another 7 days if we continue at this pace.” 

 

“5 days...it doesn't seem that long.”

 

“Perhaps because you are enjoying yourself?”, Zenyatta asked with a chuckle. 

 

“If nothing else I enjoy waking you up every morning, you always seem so startled.” 

 

“Granted, you did wake me once by banging two pots together.” 

 

“You didn’t wake by normal means”, Genji said innocently. 

 

“No, I suppose I was unresponsive to the shaking”, Zenyatta said with a chuckle. 

 

“See? You agree with me.” 

 

“Yes, I guess I do”, he said as he continued his work. 

 

The next morning Genji woke Zenyatta by gently prodding his side with his fingers, the monk rose slowly out of bed “What no shaking today?”, he asked. “What can I say? I don’t want to become predictable”, Genji answered. They left out of Chamje and followed the trail uphill to Tal and then to Dharapani. From there the road took them to Bargarchap, then the climb to Tyanja, following the river to Komar. As they approached Chame they caught sight of Annapurna II, it’s snow dusted peak cutting high into the sky, it was an amazing sight well worth the hours of hiking and cold just to catch a glimpse of its untamed beauty. He and Zenyatta gazed at it for a good while before moving on, they did have a semblance of a schedule to keep. The two of them stopped for the night in Chame. There were two small hot springs nearby that sent Genji into a deep reverie, he remembered the trip to Asahikawa and the many other instances that he, his father, and Hanzo had spent at the onsen. 

 

“You could indulge in the hot springs if you desire to Genji. I wouldn’t mind”, Zenyatta said as they continue their trek to the guest house, the sky already beginning to darken, the stars coming to life overhead.

 

“You wouldn’t join me?” 

 

“No. Although I am mostly waterproof submerging can be a bit of a problem”, he said gesturing to the points of his anatomy where his wiring was exposed. 

 

“No, it’s alright, it’s not the same going in alone. Besides, I didn’t really want to get in. It just reminded me of something”, he says feeling a deep wave of nostalgia curling up inside his chest, an almost uncomfortable warmth. 

 

“Of what? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

 

He thought about it, would it be so wrong to tell Zenyatta a bit about his past? It almost felt wrong not to, especially after all the details the monk had divulged only a few nights ago. He rubbed the back of his neck suddenly feeling silly. 

 

“It’s not really an interesting story.” 

 

“That’s alright. I would like to hear it anyway.” 

 

“When I was young, back in Hanamura, there was this onsen that my father would always take us to. He loved the onsen, I think it was because he was always under a lot of pressure, and going there helped him to relax. Seeing those hot springs just now reminded me of it”, he says as he follows behind the monk, his thoughts flowing easily to simpler times. 

 

“I’m sure you have many pleasant memories of your time there”, Zenyatta said warmly.

 

“I do”, Genji replied, suddenly in a talkative mood. “The first time he took us there I was only 6. I jumped in head first not realizing how hot the water would be. I sprang out seconds later, my father said I must have jumped at least 5 feet in the air, and then ran out yelling that he was trying to cook me. My mother wrapped herself in a towel and chased after me, catching me right before I ran out the door. She had me thrown over her shoulder as she walked back to where my father was. ‘Sojiro are you trying to boil my child alive?’ she asked him, he was so flustered, he was used to my mother’s teasing but not in public. My father tried to explain that I had just jumped in without knowing how hot the water was. Then over from the women’s side of the bath, you could hear all these ladies go ‘Oooh! Busted!’”

 

“It sounds like your mother was a very good natured woman”, Zenyatta says, a fondness in his voice.

 

“Yeah, she was”, Genji said a hint of sadness in his tone “My father always said that’s where I got my sense of humor from. She never took things too seriously. But unlike me, she could stop messing around long enough to still get work done.” 

 

“You seem fairly focused.” 

 

“Yeah, now. But when I was younger I could never sit still. It drove my father crazy sometimes, but despite everything that happened I think he understood that was just how I was. How I was going to be. After awhile he came to accept it, it was the rest of the family that had a problem with it.” 

 

“I see. Did they ever come to understand you?” 

 

“No”, Genji answered bitterly, those same feelings of resentment surging forth. “They never did. They thought my behavior was unworthy of the family name”, he said, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them, wondering how tender memories had so easily given way to anger and frustration.

 

“That’s unfortunate”, Zenyatta remarked sadly “Families should always strive to be supportive. Whether they agree with how you live your life is immaterial”, he said as they rounded a bend. 

 

“Yeah, but it’s rarely like that”, Genji said sullenly. It wasn’t even his parents that had been the issue, it was the rest of the clan, those uptight elders with their starched suits and their piercing eyes that constantly scrutinized him. He had hated those meetings with them, his mother had told him, not long before she passed, to not let them get to him. That they didn’t dictate the course of his life. She had understood him in her way, she too was an outsider amongst the family. The clan had not welcomed her and his father’s marriage. They thought her too brash and willful, that he should marry a woman from another clan to build ties or at least a woman with wealth. She was neither, but his father hadn’t cared, he had loved her dearly, often calling her his other half. That was one of the few times he hadn’t listened to the family’s clamoring and had done as he wished. 

 

In those years after her death, his father had managed to shield him from the clan’s prying eyes, he had been able to indulge his whims without consequence. Although, there were times when his father had admonished him for acting foolishly, times where even he couldn’t turn a blind eye to his reckless behavior. He had been angry in those few instances, their arguing reaching a heated level when Genji stormed out saying he was just as bad as those overly strict elders and to leave him be. Looking back now he realized he was perhaps too harsh. His father had been grieving too. He remembered one night hearing him talk to one of his closest subordinates in his study, his voice cracking with barely contained sadness, he had whispered brokenly “I’ve lost my other half.”

 

His father had tried to assuage that deep aching grief by throwing himself more readily into his business. It had worked, but at the cost of spending time with him and Hanzo. Hanzo, who he had begun to see less of, had tried despite everything to make sure he was taken care of. Picking him up from school, making sure he was fed, and even to a certain extent trying to listen to his problems. He can still remember Hanzo in his school uniform, waiting by the car with one of their father’s subordinates sitting in the driver's seat, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. Genji ran to the car, quickly sliding into the backseat and throwing down his backpack, glad to be going home.

 

“You seem eager to be going home if your run is anything to go off of”, Hanzo said taking the seat next to him, his bag laid on the floor by his feet. 

 

“You’re not?”, Genji asked, he was 12 and just beginning to hit puberty his voice cracking slightly each time he spoke, a trait that Hanzo took a good deal of pleasure in teasing him about. 

 

“Well, I guess I would be if I had beat up some of the toughest guys in school and was scared of revenge.” 

 

Genji groaned “Do you know everything?” 

 

“Not yet”, Hanzo answered with a smirk “Though you really shouldn’t be fighting anyone Genji”, he admonished. 

 

“It wasn’t even a fight. They barely landed a punch on me.” 

 

“Then who’s blood is that on your knuckles?” 

 

“The other guy’s.”

 

“Genji.” 

 

“Fine, fine. I won’t do it again. Now get off my back”, Genji groused folding his arms across his chest. 

 

Hanzo loosed a long suffering sigh. “I’m just trying to keep you out of trouble”, he said pulling a package of disinfectant wipes from his bag. “The least you could do is try not to go looking for it”, he said, pulling Genji’s hand to him and cleaning the dried blood from his knuckles. Genji huffed. “Ok”, he answered. He wanted to be more annoyed, but couldn’t find it in him. Hanzo had been shouldering much of the responsibilities in those days, he had made it his duty to watch out for him in every aspect of their lives. He had to wonder when things changed so drastically. 

 

The road to Pisang was long, it roamed through a deep forest that covered a steep and narrow valley. After a restful night in Pisang they headed out early to Manang village. Genji realized quickly, after a stint where he was unable to catch his breath, that the altitude was still a problem. They trudged into a tea house where he flopped into the nearest chair feeling a deep fatigue that reached from his head to his toes. He was annoyed with himself as he sat there, he should be able to keep going, the limitations of normal men no longer applied to him, so why couldn’t he do this? He wasn’t even really a man anymore, so why was this so hard? It didn’t seem to bother Zenyatta who Genji felt a need to apologize to, an odd sense of guilt coming over him for holding the monk up despite his assurances. 

 

“I just feel strange about it, though”, he complained “I’m hardly a man anymore. I should be able to do this, I should be able to keep going”, he said, his voice cracking with frustration. 

 

“You are still a man Genji. Just because the form of you has changed doesn’t make you any less human.” 

 

Genji gave a broken laugh “That’s what I thought too. Until I started walking around out here and people let me know right away that I wasn’t.” 

 

“People are quick to judge I’m afraid. But I’ve found it best not to let their judgments affect how I perceive myself. If that were so I would rarely leave the monastery.” 

 

Genji felt like a child struggling with his self-esteem, he had always been confident in everything he did, it felt strange to be placed in such a vulnerable position. “It’s still hard though”, he confessed quietly.

 

“Of course, to love yourself truly and unconditionally is a hard thing to do. You see only your flaws, always hoping that there was some way to do away with them. But your strengths, as well as your weaknesses are what make you unique. Accept all of them, wholly embrace your strengths, and strive to improve where you are weak.” 

 

“You make it sound so simple”, Genji said tiredly. 

 

“Nothing in life is ever simple, but anything worth having takes work”, Zenyatta replied. 

 

“You really think I could learn to accept myself?”, Genji asks breathlessly, feeling completely off kilter. 

 

“I do”, Zenyatta says warmly “I believe it is only a matter of time”, he answered softly. 

 

Genji got to his feet “I’ll be right back”, he said as he jerkily walked outside to get some air, the room suddenly claustrophobic with the weight of his words. Accept yourself, accept things how they were, that seemed like such a foreign concept to him. He had always been trying to cope with things, accepting that things could never return to the way they used to be but always trying to ignore the reality of his body, his mind so overrun with a cruel bitterness that he refused to dislodge, a depression he couldn’t jettison. Zenyatta’s words rattled in his head. Could he fully accept himself as he was now? It seemed doubtful, but what was the harm in trying? He wasn’t sure. 

 

Yak Kharka was the last stop before Thorung Phedi, and their final ascent to the Thorung La pass. As much as he had been enjoying the trip so far, he had to admit that he was glad they would be reaching their destination soon. Zenyatta also expressed his excitement about finally returning after such a long journey “I believe you will find the monastery quite beautiful”, he said as they settled down in their room for the night. “We had found it abandoned and decided to repurpose it to our needs.” 

 

“Huh, I wouldn’t have thought there would be an abandoned monastery in Muktinath.” 

 

“There wasn’t, we found it just a little further west of there, but it is nice to be so close to such a spiritual place.” 

 

Zenyatta had told him of how he and the other monks had spent time in the town of Muktinath. The village was home to several monasteries, as well as the temple dedicated to Lord Vishnu. A beautiful pagoda style edifice with 108 waterspouts and a continuous flow of holy water. 

 

“I’m looking forward to seeing the temple”, he said 

 

“Yes it is beautiful”, Zenyatta said fondly “It will be nice to see it again after so long.” 

 

“How long have you been gone for?” 

 

“About a month. Mondatta usually has me take care of more personal affairs, trying to do outreach with other monasteries, working one-on-one with people. That’s what I enjoy, Mondatta prefers to handle the crowds.” 

 

“So is he the leader of the Shambli then?” 

 

“He and I work in tandem, but I suppose if pressed I would say he is the leader. You’ll meet him once we arrive. I’m sure he’ll wish to thank you for getting me back in one piece.” 

 

“Hm, what is he like?” 

 

Zenyatta looked contemplative “You know how you call me enigmatic?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“He’s even worse.” 

 

Genji groaned loudly “Great, something to look forward to.” 

 

“It won’t be that bad”, Zenyatta insisted with a chuckle “I’m sure you’ll enjoy your stay there.” 

 

Genji felt his stomach heave with an unbearable anxiety “I never said I was going to stay there”, he said, his annoyance about the frightening uncertainty of his path returning. 

 

Zenyatta looked contemplative “Ah that’s right, that was presumptuous of me. Though I had hoped you would find some time to stay, at least for a short time. I realize of course if you choose not to, I’m sure you have places to go.” 

 

“I don’t actually.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“I don’t have anywhere to go. I lied about it”, he said, that same bitter anxiousness boiling in his stomach.

 

“Then why are you so adamant to leave?”, Zenyatta asked, not a hint of judgment in his voice, it made him feel worse somehow. 

 

He knew the reason for his hesitation. It was fear. The fear that Zenyatta could actually help him, the fear of letting go of something he had clung onto so desperately like a lifeline, even something as toxic as his own self-loathing. Letting go of that, no matter how much he knew it would benefit him, was a terrifying notion. 

 

“Because all I know how to do is wander”, he said quietly “Because that’s all I’ve been doing for the past few months. I don’t have a home to go back to, I don’t have anyone waiting for me. It’s just me. I don’t know how to accept any of what you’ve offered me”, he said feeling helplessly exposed. Would it be so bad to just accept what Zenyatta offered him? Why was he so against it? Why was he trying to run away from such an opportunity? 

 

“You’re afraid to change”, Zenyatta said matter of factly. 

 

“I am not”, Genji said, inwardly seething, angered by the fact that he felt so juvenile in the wake of his own confession. 

 

“But you are”, Zenyatta pressed “And that’s fine.” 

 

“No, it’s not. There’s no reason for me to feel this way. Anyone else would have happily accepted your offer, so what’s wrong with me?”, he cried brokenly, frustrated to the point of exhaustion, throwing his hands up to grip the sides of his head in anger and irritation.

 

“I can only imagine how much you’ve been through Genji”, Zenyatta said soothingly, his hand resting on Genji’s back. “But there is no reason to invalidate how you feel. Whatever you are experiencing you have a right to feel that way. I am here to help you, that’s all I’ve wished to do”, he said as Genji sat there trying to find a reason to pull away, but surprisingly coming up empty. 

 

“I don’t know if this is what I want”, he said quietly, his head still in his hands.

 

“Then you may leave when you wish.” 

 

“I’m not going to become a monk.” 

 

“When did I ever say you had to be?” 

 

“I don’t know if you can help me.” 

 

“There’s no harm in trying.” 

 

Genji looked at Zenyatta, his orbs circling him at a leisurely pace, the dots that decorated his forehead burning brightly in the half-light of their room. He felt a strange sense of anticipation overtake him, that feeling of bitter agitation burning away.

 

“Must you always have an answer for everything?”, he asked, only half-heartedly. 

 

“I am sure we will find out”, Zenyatta answered teasingly, his hand slipping from his back. Genji caught his hand before it completely retreated to his side, he felt his face grow hot as his fingers ghosted over the monk’s knuckles, smoothing down the length of his fingers, their coolness comforting. 

 

“Thank you”, he whispered. 

 

“As I told you Genji, you will always have my help.”

 

Genji drifts off to sleep easier that night and for the first time in so long, he dreams of his dragon. Vivid and iridescent it comes to him, riding the wind slowly, until it’s circling around him, coiling it’s long lithe body around him like a serpent. At one time he had feared that reptilian embrace, now he found it strangely soothing. He felt the power ripple underneath his fingertips, it’s maw opening and closing to form words he couldn’t hear. Suddenly everything went red, the dragon abruptly blinking out of sight, he looked around searching frantically for it until swiftly the stillness was broken by the distinctive sound of a gunshot. 

 

He woke with a start, clutching his chest, trying to calm himself down. He didn’t often dream of his dragon. When he did he usually found it meant something was about to happen, and considering the way the dream had ended, he had to assume it was nothing good. He looked over to Zenyatta, still sleeping peacefully under the covers, his orbs laying dormant around his neck. What did the dream mean? Were they going to experience resistance before they reached the monastery? He wished he could call the dragon forth to speak with him, but he didn’t come to him as easily these days, and when he did he always spoke in long metaphors, ones that were inscrutable to mortal minds. So instead he attempted to fall back asleep, unable to shake the sense of gnawing apprehension.

 

The monsoon came earlier than expected. It began with a light shower, and before they knew it they were in the middle of a deluge that pounded against them until they relented and had to take shelter. They found refuge in a small gutted out checkpoint off to one side of the mountain, the wind and rain forgotten as they trudged inside. Genji heaved a long sigh, the bad weather only helping to put him further on edge. Zenyatta took a seat on a nearby bench, the space was cramped and sparsely outfitted with two benches, a door, and a small window. They might as well have found a broom closet to stow away in, the space was comparable. Zenyatta didn’t seem perturbed as they sat there, the rain beating a thunderous tattoo on the roof over their heads. Zenyatta was crowded close to him, the low hum of his hardware putting him at ease for the moment. 

 

“I thought we would be ahead of the rains”, Genji groused, as the water slid off his body and pooled at his feet. 

 

“Well, the weather is always subject to change, especially up here”, Zenyatta said as he brushed a few stray droplets from his shoulders “Though I am beginning to wish I had packed a towel.” 

 

“There is such a thing as packing too light”, Genji offered with a grin. 

 

“I suppose you’re right”, Zenyatta said with a low chuckle as he gazed out the window. Genji followed his gaze, he noticed something out amidst the rain and snow, a pair of figures with another between them, struggling to make their way up the trail. Zenyatta looked at him, they exchanged a silent nod before running back out into the rain, whoever these travelers were looked like they were in dire need of assistance. As they drew closer the same nagging feeling of apprehension hit Genji like a sickening wave. He numbly pulled one of the men out of the snow, he was dressed mostly in black save for the dark green scarf around his neck, his eyes darted to him. Genji took stock of his features and instinctively recoiled. 

 

“Talon agents”, he thought, a trace of fear of in that realization. He had seen his face before during an op that had nearly ended with half the team either captured or dead. The other two figures were another man who Genji didn’t recognize, and a Bastion unit, its light blaring a cheerful blue amidst the rain and wind. Zenyatta was pulling his accomplice up by the arms when he spoke “Thanks”, the other man uttered in a gruff voice brushing snow from his arms “Wasn’t expecting the rain.” 

 

“Yeah, thanks”, said the agent with the scarf, a knowing smile on his face. Genji’s blood ran cold, did he recognize him? He had to assume so, thinking briefly back to the dream, the dragon mouthing words of warning. Zenyatta ushered them towards the checkpoint, Genji following closely on his heels. When the Talon agents were inside he pulled the monk to the side and said in an urgent whisper “We have to go now”. Zenyatta looked at him he didn’t ask questions, he merely nodded as they began a slow retreat from the door. 

 

“Hey, where are you going? The rain’s too bad. There’s enough room so why don’t you both come back inside?”, said the agent with the scarf “I insist”, he said, he had appeared suddenly at the door, a gun in his hand pointed directly at them. Genji grit his teeth in anger, he knew he could take a few bullets before he was severely damaged, but he had no idea what the prospect of a firefight would do to the monk’s body. He crowded close to Zenyatta putting himself between the monk and the barrel of the gun. 

 

“You two, inside. Now”, he barked. Genji’s mind rapidly went through multiple scenarios, none of them desirable, but going inside seemed the worst possible option. If things grew worse he would have little space to get Zenyatta safely out of there, and even less space to evade any stray bullets. 

 

“We will have to decline your offer”, Genji said, his tone laced with anger, his voice shaking with rage. 

 

Before he could fully react the other man was at the door, the Bastion next to him, it's light blaring a vivid red. Seconds later there were two guns pointed at them, in an instant the sound of the rainfall was punctuated with gunfire. Genji pushed Zenyatta down, his orbs circling in a mad frenzy, he drew his sword deflecting several bullets. The monk rolled up in a fluid movement sending one of his orbs flying towards the Bastion unit, a purple streak amidst the rain. Genji threw himself in front of him, deflecting another onslaught of bullets that propelled themselves back at the Bastion unit which fell apart with a satisfying clang. 

 

This only seemed to insight the two men to further anger. The second agent threw his gun aside to pick up the machine gun of the disassembled Bastion unit and began shooting wildly. His partner followed suit with his shotgun, Zenyatta sent an orb hurtling towards the agent from behind him, along with a flurry of projectiles that seemed to do little to deter them. Genji continued to deflect the onslaught of bullets, although the pace was beginning to tire him. He felt a radiant warmth surround him which helped him to cope with the spray of bullets, but not with the problem that they just seemed to keep coming. They would have to move soon. He couldn’t keep us this pace forever and the way things were going the outcome didn’t seem good. He moved off to the side Zenyatta following closely behind him, their pursuers following on their heels as he pushed the monk in front of him. “Nowhere to go”, Genji thought savagely, they only had two options, go up or down. So they climbed. Genji’s lungs heaved with the effort of the chase, the rain and wind beating at him. Just when Genji decided they couldn’t continue this way he heard a sharp inhalation of breath in front of him. Genji looked up to see Zenyatta clutching the side of his arm, the metal split by a stray bullet. 

 

Genji’s vision swam. He barely had time to register the agent’s blood on his sword before he was sprinting after the one with the scarf, a streak of green cutting through the downpour. The dragon was already surging forth, tearing loose from his body, a maelstrom raging on the mountain side. In that instant, everything was lost to him, save for the roar of the dragon in his ear, and the certainty that Zenyatta’s attacker would soon be thrust through by his blade. 

 

Shuriken flew from his fingers before he could register that he even drew them, they met their mark but the man persists. The Talon agent fired 4 shots as he charged forward, 3 miss, one hits him in the leg. Genji curses as he brings down his blade on the man’s arm, he drops the gun buckling under the weight of his blow, his blood staining the snow a deep shade of red. He brings up his other hand trying to land a punch, Genji moves his head out the way too late, he gets him on the chin. He’s knocked back for a brief second as the man shakes out his hand readying another punch. Too slow. He sweeps the Talon agent’s legs out from under him. The man hits the ground with a muffled thud, Genji doesn’t hesitate to bring his blade down with an incensed shout. The other man nimbly rolls out of the way and hops back on his feet, Genji follows after him as he races towards the cliff’s edge, trying to escape. He tosses 2 more shuriken they both miss, he speeds up and manages to catch the man by the scruff of his neck. They both land on the ground, the man spitting obscenities underneath him as he tries to wrestle himself out of his grip. 

 

Genji avoids his blind punches and pins his hand down with his sword, the agent releases a ragged cry as he kicks Genji off, his boot connecting with his stomach. He’s temporarily winded as he drags his sword out of the man’s now bloodied hand and rolls off onto the snow. The agent gets up and before Genji can get his bearings he’s throwing a grenade at him. He’s just barely able to deflect it back, it hits the agent in the chest as he releases a ragged curse. The blast is too close. Before he can sprint out of the way the blast has engulfed him, blinding and deafening him in one deadly strike. 

 

The blast throws him over the side of the cliff. He’s sent plummeting down, snow and jagged stone careening past his vision. The breath knocked out of him, the harsh winds roaring in his ear the wail of the dragon long gone, a voice that was usually so smooth and calm called out his name in a panic. He reaches out in alarm as his surroundings continue to race by, his hands slip and slide over snowy rock and wet crags, unable to make purchase. He closes his eyes, the inevitability of the situation sinking in, his fate this time ripped from his hands by the errant blast of a hastily thrown grenade. He registers the sound of the sickly crack of his back hitting snow and stone before he feels it, a moment later it’s forgotten altogether. 

 

He lays on the rock, looking up at the mountain looming above him. The underside of the cliff where he fell lies overhead, tantalizingly close, but too far to climb in his condition. His ears ring, his vision blurs, the rain continues to fall, the cold bites at him fiercer than when he and Zenyatta were climbing the steep trails only hours before. He considers that he might die here, alone and forgotten on the mountainside, an unnamed omnic with a corpse of a man in its shell. He groans trying to sit up, he’s too weak to move. He never thought he would be face to face with death so soon. He’s been here before. That night in Hanamura, another time when his eyes had lingered on his sword in the stillness of his rooms as he tried to ride out the violent pain after his surgery. Once again when an op had gone south, and now again laying on the mountain side, his promise to escort Zenyatta back home unfulfilled and completely broken. He thought of Zenyatta; his gentle laughter, his invitation to the monastery, the cool metal of his palm over his hand, his thumb caressing his knuckles. His eyes began to water with the force of an emotion he couldn’t easily name. 

 

Whether it was real or imagined, Genji felt warm, far warmer than he should be feeling, his pain suddenly forgotten and replaced with relief. He observed a radiant golden glow come into sight, and what looked to be nine ethereal arms poised around Zenyatta’s body. Seconds later strong arms tightly embraced him and Zenyatta’s face blurrily came into view. “Genji”, he cried, “I thought I had lost you”, he said so softly Genji wondered if he was meant to hear it. 

 

He laughed weakly, his teeth chattering from cold and shock “Thought you could get rid of me that easily huh?, he asked, his voice hoarse and shaking. 

 

“Please don’t joke about this”, Zenyatta said shaking his head. 

 

“Sorry”, Genji wheezed, his eyes alighting on the groove in Zenyatta’s arm, the injury from the bullet he had failed to shield him from. He felt the weight of the past few hours bear heavily on his shoulders. It was a weak thing but he brought his arms around the monk, a slack hold, but all he could manage for now. 

 

If possible Zenyatta’s grip on him only tightened, one hand gently cradled the back of his head, the other was wrapped around his waist. Genji mirrored the embrace, the cold all but forgotten in his arms, his body warmed by the internal hardware in the monk’s chest. When his teeth had ceased to chatter Zenyatta spoke again “Who were those men?”, he asked still holding on to him, their bodies somehow slotted together, a brief respite from the biting cold. 

 

“They were Talon agents”, Genji answered, the strength beginning to return to his limbs as he hugged Zenyatta closer to him, seeking the comfort, trying to soothe away the cold sting of fear. “I’ve fought them before when I was with Overwatch, though I don’t know why they’d be up here.” 

 

He abruptly stops to takes stock of the situation, thinking about the only place they could be headed to at this altitude, their constant threats to peaceful omnics. “Zenyatta, what if they were trying to get to the monastery?”, he asks. 

 

“It is possible. Though I don’t know what they’d hope to accomplish there”, he says, his voice slightly shaken. 

 

“Nothing good”, Genji answers “They’re a terrorist organization they don’t need a reason to cause trouble.”

 

“They sound as if they’re in need of guidance.” 

 

“I don’t think they would want it from you or anyone else. They’re too far gone.”

 

“Perhaps, but I believe everyone has a chance for redemption.” 

 

“Really? Even when they were planning to bring a hostile Bastion unit up to a peaceful monastery full of unsuspecting monks?”

 

Zenyatta didn’t answer for a moment, he merely caressed the back of Genji’s head with his fingers. Genji’s head lolled onto his shoulder, sighing. 

 

“There are always chances things would not have turned out badly”, he said at last. 

 

“How can you say that? Look at what they did to you!”, he shouted, his anger returning, the dragon ready to unleash itself from the ink on his back. 

 

“It’s only a scratch.” 

 

“It could have been worse than a scratch and we both know it”, he said, his fingers coming to rest on the groove in the metal, they were nicks just a superficial injury, but they had evoked a deep seated rage in him, a berserker fury he never thought he had until that night all those years ago. 

 

“These people can’t be reasoned with”, he said, his fingers still splayed over Zenyatta’s injury “They would have come to the temple and killed you”, he whispered, his words swept away by the whistle of the wind and rain. 

 

“But they didn’t because you were here”, Zenyatta said simply. 

 

“But what if I hadn’t been?”, Genji asked, his voice cracking with the fear he had been trying to stave off, the anxiousness twisting his guts until he felt too sick to move, exhausted with the weight of his own worry. 

 

“The future has always been uncertain”, Zenyatta said “But I find it best not to dwell on the possibilities. Concern yourself only with what is happening now, not on what could happen.” 

 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

 

“I assure you Genji, we would have defended ourselves had it come to that. But a little empathy can also go a long way.” 

 

“You think a few kind words and a tour of the monastery would be enough to keep them from fulfilling their mission?” 

 

“Perhaps not. But it would be worth it to try.” 

 

“Foolish”, whispered Genji, almost fondly.

 

Zenyatta said nothing, his fingers still stroking along the edge of his helm. “I am just grateful you’re alright”, he said softly and Genji feels a stirring in his chest. One that compels him to, if possible nuzzle closer to the monk, his fears and worry temporarily forgotten in his embrace.

 

They stayed there for a few more minutes as the rain continued to fall, finally, they made their way back to the checkpoint. Zenyatta supporting his weight easily, Genji’s strength slowly beginning to return. Once safely inside Zenyatta went about healing the rest of Genji's wounds. He allowed him to do it, but his eyes never strayed from the nicks in the metal of his arm. 

 

“What about your injuries?”, he inquired as Zenyatta set an orb to his leg. 

 

“I will attend to it once I’m done with you. You were injured and exposed to the elements far longer than I would have liked.” 

 

Genji still wasn’t convinced “You shouldn’t neglect yourself”, he admonished. 

 

“Your concern deeply touches me Genji”, he replied warmly “But I will be fine. You are my first priority at the moment.” 

 

Genji huffed, defeated. “I’m more concerned about you”, he said quietly. 

 

They stayed in silence for a long time, the wind buffeting the checkpoint, the signs of the earlier struggle outside buried under the snow, the Bastion unit almost entirely invisible under the sleet. It made Genji sick to think what could have happened, he tried not to think about it. Zenyatta’s next words snapping him out of his thoughts “So you’re from the Shimada clan then?”, he asked. 

 

Genji’s blood ran cold, far colder than when he had first seen that Talon agent. He had totally disassociated himself from that name, from the people who had sent his own brother against him, spilled his blood all because they thought he was too unruly, too wild to be caught and chained down. To hear his name again felt like a blow to his heart, it sounded foreign. For a brief second, he had even forgotten it used to be a part of him. Zenyatta didn’t follow up the question, he merely sat there and let the weight of that name hang between them until Genji finally roused himself from the depths of his mind, his tone clipped and defensive. 

 

“The dragon gave it away”, he said, feeling foolish.

 

“It is a well-known fact that only those of the Shimada clan can control dragons.”

 

“I’m not a Shimada. Not anymore”, he said bitterly. “The clan has been destroyed”, he said, the barest hint of smugness in his voice. He looked over to Zenyatta “So if you know my family you must know who I am.” 

 

“I had heard stories of an agent named Genji who had worked with Overwatch for a time. I had no idea that the youngest heir to the clan and that man were one in the same.” 

 

“So you know my past too?”, he asked, his voice shaking with his ire. “Do you know what happened to the youngest heir? Do you know how the son of Sojiro and Haruka Shimada went from one of the heirs to the clan to the cyborg standing in front of you?”, he asked, already on his feet, not sure if he was readying himself to argue or run.

 

“I would never assume to know what led you here”, Zenyatta answered “But I do assume that whatever caused you to be the man you are today, caused you a great deal of suffering”, he said, his voice pained. 

 

Genji numbly takes his seat next to him, his legs crossed, his hands gripping his knees for support. “You’re right”, he answers trying to slow his breathing, his face flushed with anger, his voice shaken with the force of his anxiety. 

 

“I had been naive”, he said slowly, “I thought that things could continue the way they always had after my father died. I was wrong”, his voice broke off into a half sob. Zenyatta’s hand came to rest on his knee, he covered it with his own hand, briefly thinking of the night on Ajit and Laksha’s patio, the warm breeze perfumed with the scent of jasmine. He ran his fingers over the monk’s hand, ice cold but familiar. He wasn’t sure if he could bear to tell Zenyatta about that night in the castle, but he could at least tell him what transpired afterward.

 

“When my father passed the rest of the clan tried to bring me in line. I was awful back then”, he laughed brokenly “Wild, reckless, out of control. That was my life for a long time after my mother had passed. The rest of the family couldn’t stand it anymore, they didn’t try to understand why, they just saw me as a liability, dead weight”, he breaks off again. Zenyatta grips his hand, his words come out choked with hurt, a white lie for now “Someone in the family did this to me. We had a fight, obviously, I lost, pinned to the floor and close to death. That’s how I became this”, he said gesturing miserably to himself. 

 

“Overwatch found me and we basically struck a deal ‘Help us dismantle the clan, and we’ll put you back together’ I was so enraged that I agreed. Like an idiot I agreed”, he stopped again, trying to slow his breath and collect his thoughts, the fragments of his ordeal spinning wildly in his head. “The cyberization process was long. It took 2 weeks for them to put me back together, it was agonizing. The rehabilitation process was even worse. I couldn’t feel anything for over a month, I could have put my hand in a fire and never felt it. My other senses weren’t much better. 

 

After about 2 months I was fully rehabilitated. After that I helped them destroy the clan, it took months of grueling work, but finally, it was gone. I had gotten revenge on the people who had made me this way. But at the end of it I felt empty. I thought maybe if I could kill the person who had tried to murder me I would feel better. But I never found him and what I felt seemed deeper, like nothing could satisfy me. So I left, I wandered the world, tried to make sense of everything, tried to come to terms with myself. I traveled through India for a while, that’s when the assassin found me, the last remnants of the clan’s plan for vengeance. That’s when I met you.” 

 

Zenyatta removed his hand from his knee, Genji would whine if not for the fact that the monk put his arms around him a second later, his head lolled against his chest. “I had no idea you had to endure such pain. I’m truly sorry Genji”, he said pulling him close. 

 

“That's what everyone says when they find out”, Genji said weakly, thinking back to some of the other Overwatch operatives and their reactions to his past. “But no amount of apologies can change what happened.” 

 

“That’s true”, Zenyatta admitted, “But allow me to do so, regardless.” 

 

Genji loosed a long suffering sigh as he tightly wrapped his arms around Zenyatta, those bitter memories temporarily forgotten as the rain continued to beat against the checkpoint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this update took so long. By next chapter, they will definitely be at the monastery.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zenyatta and Genji make it to the monastery, and Genji ends up calling on an old friend.

The sight of the monastery was like a boon after the grueling events of the past few hours. They had stayed in relative silence after Genji’s revelation of his past. Too mentally exhausted to strike up conversation and too physically fatigued to move Genji had watched as Zenyatta finished the task of healing him. Once he was done he attended to his own wound, the fissure in the metal neatly working its way back together until it was no longer noticeable. Genji was glad for it, he couldn’t bear to think about what could have happened had he not been in the way. Perhaps if you had complied it would never have happened. “Perhaps if I had we would both be dead”, he thought savagely. His mind took him down that dark road for many hours until he finally realized there was no use in indulging that cruel and endless loop of self-doubt. They were both alive and relatively unharmed, that’s all he could have hoped for. 

 

The appearance of the Talon agents set a frightening precedent. He had never known them to take such bold methods, they usually stuck to the shadows, running covert ops, preferring to cause trouble and let blame fall where it may. He supposed even their failed attempt to reach the monastery was just another extension of their usual tactics, but it felt bigger somehow, more personal. He briefly thought about contacting Overwatch, getting back in touch with McCree, raising the alert. But he didn’t even have his phone and he doubted that the monastery had spare ones lying around. He tried to put such matters aside for the moment, he instead turned his focus on the monk who was leading him, his orbs circling him in a blur of motion, excited to be returning after such a long journey. Focus on what it would mean for him to stay there, ignore the depths of his worry. There would always be threats, and if Talon were to make another attempt to reach the monastery he would be ready to meet them. 

 

The weight of his uncertainty was momentarily lifted as he laid eyes on the Shambali monastery. It was larger than he expected, spired like a castle, three long tapestries hung above its door, walled in by snow-dusted cliff face on one side and the peaks of mountains on the other. Large statues of omnics meditating greeted them as they continued to walk up the path. There were many omnics about, all wearing the same ochre garb that Zenyatta had been wearing when they met. Some were similar to him in build, others were undoubtedly newer models with their shining chrome and bodies polished to a blinding gleam. There were no strange looks for him here, only cheerful greetings and pleasant waves as they made their way inside. Zenyatta seemed to know everyone’s name he observed as they walked into a room that was only lit by the light of candles. Genji craned his neck back to allow a view of the high ceilings, a small sky light streaming in the first rays of sunlight they had seen in hours. His eyes roved over a large red tapestry adorning the space above the doorway, what looked to be an eye was emblazoned there. 

 

“What’s this symbol?”, he asked pointing to it. 

 

“Ah, that is the Iris.” 

 

“The Iris?” 

 

“I suppose you could think of it like a higher plane of being. A higher consciousness that goes beyond man and machine, goes beyond worldly desires and the boundaries we impose upon ourselves. Something intangible, transcendental.” 

 

Genji considered his words. “A higher plane of consciousness”, he thought in dismay. What did that mean to an omnic? What did that mean to a man? How did you know you had achieved such a state? What did it feel like? He couldn’t fathom it. The confines of his mind attempting to stretch and engulf itself around those strange concepts. 

 

“You seem skeptical”, Zenyatta offered. 

 

“I suppose I am. I’ve never been a very religious person”, he admitted. He thought back to the Shinto shrines of his youth, the tender looks of the miko, a simple prayer. He had fallen out of love with the gods after his mother’s death, not understanding why she had been stolen away, nor why he and his family had to suffer. He still hadn’t come to terms with it. His father never pressed him to come to another shrine with he and Hanzo again, after he had stated weakly, his eyes ready to spill with tears, that he couldn’t do it and he refused to pray when the joy had been stolen from his house and the laughter had been extinguished from his father’s eyes. His father had understood and let him be, stating that perhaps in the future he would understand. Even after all these years he still didn’t. 

 

He continued to follow Zenyatta, who had fallen silent seemingly to let him finish reminiscing “It isn’t so much a religion as a state of being”, Zenyatta answered, his hands clasped behind his back “Something that we here all hope to achieve. I have even brushed upon the Iris a few times.” 

 

“Really?”, Genji asked, his interest peaked “How did you do that?” 

 

“Through many long hours of meditation. If I remember correctly it took me about 2 months to achieve it.” 

 

“What did it feel like?”

 

“Warm”, was all the reply Zenyatta gave him. 

 

They cut a meandering course through the monastery. Occasionally they would come upon other monks as they made way through, some doing simple chores, others merely conversing with each other. It wasn’t long before they were out in the courtyard, at its center a large bell hung from a wooden arch, an omnic was bent down nearby cleaning it with slow methodic strokes. Another monk stood off to the side surveying the work, right away Genji noticed that he was different from the others. His robe for one was an almost pearlescent white, one shoulder covered, the other bared to expose his arm and the metal plating and circuitry of his chest, a sash tied around his waist. He turned slowly as they approached, the dots adorning his forehead arranged in a diamond pattern, his faceplate a milky white. 

 

“Brother Mondatta”, Zenyatta called from next to him, bowing low. 

 

Mondatta inclined his head before bowing back “It is good to see you back brother”, Mondatta replied “I trust your journey went well, especially since you have brought a visitor into our midst”, he said, his gaze directed at Genji. 

 

Genji suddenly felt out of place but managed to recover quickly as Mondatta addressed him “I welcome you to the monastery. It is always good to see those in search of guidance.” 

 

“Yes”, Genji stammered, thrown for a loop, completely out of his depth. 

 

“So, what is your name?” 

 

“Genji”, he replied. 

 

“It is a pleasure to meet you Genji, I am Tekharta Mondatta. I assume since my brother Zenyatta has led you here you will be training under him?” 

 

Genji once again was at a loss for words “He’s not sure at the moment”, Zenyatta answered for him. He nodded to the monk in gratitude, not sure why he was suddenly unable to bring his thoughts in line. 

 

“Ah well, I trust you will have plenty of time to consider it. Zenyatta could you please find a room for him? I have something to attend to.”

 

“Watching Suman clean the bell?”, Zenyatta inquired, a hint of teasing in his voice. 

 

“A single stick will not prop up a whole building”, Mondatta answered.

 

“Neither will two sticks if one is laid on its side, or in this case merely watching the work be done.”

 

“Could you two stop debating and just one of you help me?”, the omnic named Suman said pleadingly.

 

“I will help you momentarily Suman. First I have to attend to Genji”, Zenyatta said as he strode away, leading him through the courtyard and up a small flight of stairs. 

 

“I’m beginning to see where you got your sense of humor from”, Genji said looking back to the pair of omnics beside the bell, Mondatta obliging the other monk by cleaning alongside him.

 

“He has always been like that”, Zenyatta said fondly as they rounded a corner. He presented him with a sparsely outfitted room, a far cry from his room back home, but Genji was grateful all the same. 

 

“Thank you”, he said looking around. 

 

“I’m glad you like it. I’ll show you around later, for now, feel free to get settled.” 

 

“Where are you going?”, Genji asked, suddenly hit with a sense of loss. 

 

“I’m afraid Suman won’t get very far with Mondatta helping him”, he said with a bemused sigh “Besides I have some pupils I need to check on.” 

 

“Ah, right”, Genji said, surprised at the sudden jolt of jealousy that quickly rocked through him. He hadn’t considered that he would not have Zenyatta’s attention all for himself as he did during their travels together. He didn’t realize until that moment how lost he was going to feel without the monk's presence by his side, a warm comforting constant in his day. “I’ll see you later then?”, he asked. 

 

“Of course you will. My room is right next door”, Zenyatta answered warmly from the doorway. 

 

“Oh, perfect. At least I won’t have to go wandering around. I can just go next door and wake you up”, he said with a laugh, his teasing now turned into habit. 

 

Zenyatta chuckled shaking his head “I implore you to adopt more gentle methods Genji. We don’t want anyone to think I’ve been assaulted.” 

 

“Maybe you should learn to wake up earlier then”, Genji countered. 

 

“Well, time is an excellent teacher.” 

 

“So far it hasn’t been.” 

 

“It has only been a few weeks Genji.” 

 

“Yes, so you would think by now things would have changed.” 

 

“A jug fills drop by drop.” 

 

“So, in other words, you’re saying I can look forward to another 3 months of waking you up?” 

 

Zenyatta laughed, placing his hand on Genji’s back. “We shall see”, he said as he left Genji standing there, the vents on his shoulders releasing a steady flow of steam. 

 

Genji didn’t roam as Zenyatta had encouraged him. He instead remained confined to an edge of the courtyard, watching Mondatta, Zenyatta, and Suman clean the bell from afar. Without the hustle and jostle of travel, Zenyatta by his side, or the threat of battle he was left with far too much time for introspection. He tried to keep his mind on more pleasant thoughts, but instead his memories returned to the Shinto shrine that his family had regularly frequented. He remembered his mother leading him there once, Hanzo following closeby as they traversed the stone steps and passed the komainu; with their stony eyes and their mouths open in a frozen roar. She had brought them there to pray for his father’s success in a deal he was trying to negotiate with another family. 

 

Genji hadn’t understood the gravity of the situation at the time. But years later, when asked, Hanzo had explained the consequences if the deal had fallen through. A turf war. Their father most likely the first casualty. Genji had understood, perhaps most clearly in that moment, that he wanted nothing to do with the family business and that he was frightened for what it would mean for Hanzo to take on leadership of the clan. When their father did pass, that fear had coalesced into a deep and ever-present anxiousness and even though there would be bickering and vehement arguing from both sides, he had still loved Hanzo. He loved him just as he had when they were young, and toy swords weren’t yet swapped for blades made of shining steel. He feared for his safety silently from his room all those nights, even when he was surrounded by friends, their faces now all blurred into one from the onset of time. 

 

But anger had kept him away. It kept them away from each other for so long that they had almost forgotten that they still lived in the same house, their paths barely crossing in the daylight or as the day gave way to the darkness of night. Genji for his part had been happy to stay away, there were too many memories in that house and they haunted and hounded him everywhere he went. Even his room offered little respite. When he did see Hanzo there were few words between them. Their conversations so easily turned into bitter arguments in those days, the violent lambasting of previous disagreements always coming to mind whenever he saw him. So instead he remained like a ghost in his own house, only haunting his room when he saw fit, avoiding Hanzo at all costs, tired of the fighting and exhausted by the reprimands. Hanzo for his part made no moves to try to apologize, his pride too strong and too obstinate to move. There were near misses between them, words cut off and ultimately left unsaid, neither one wanting to break the silence. It grew and festered into an unbreakable tension, one that had only been cut through by the hammered steel of Hanzo’s blade. 

 

He took in a long quaking breath. He was growing tired of his thoughts always somehow traveling back to that night. He was tired of associating everything with something that never should have happened. He loosed another sigh as he saw the trio at the courtyard’s center finish their task. Zenyatta patted Suman on the back briefly and he felt jealousy run through him again. He told himself he was being ridiculous, clingy. “Zenyatta isn’t even your partner”, he thought angrily. “Not yet”, offered a meddlesome voice in the back of his mind. He shook his head, he had to wonder if Zenyatta was always so affectionate with everyone, did he reserve him any special treatments? Put aside any tender words specifically for him? He let his mind linger on the monk’s gentle banter, his calm serene nature, the way he steepled his fingers sometimes as he spoke, his seemingly endless kindness. He felt his chest tighten with the force of those burgeoning emotions, the strength of his infatuation baffling him.

 

Historically, he didn’t get attached. He passed in and out of his lover’s beds where and when he wished, only the ones who could put aside their feelings over his fickle whims were the ones whose bed he would delight to stay in. After awhile it became all the more difficult to try to keep his pace going, to flit from one person to another without a thought. Some of his partners had called him cruel, even heartless. He had laughed it off at the time, too preoccupied with the prospect of new lovers. Only when he was creeping back to his room to crawl under the sheets of his cold bed would he feel the sting of those words. He felt empty for reasons he couldn’t describe as if he were looking for something he had yet to find. He hadn’t found it any of his lover’s embraces; there was passion, lust, excitement, the heady joys of a body uncovered, and endless caresses in the dark, but none of what he secretly craved. What he knew in the depths of his heart that he needed, desires he had sheltered away; comfort, understanding, love. He knew half the people he came across did so only for his name, the money he threw down without a second thought, the chance for thrills, excitement, notoriety, a good lay. He enjoyed it still, to some extent, but he wanted to find someone, just one person who would be there for him. 

 

Someone who would stay when things went quiet, and the lights and glamor ceased. When it was just him, a tired man on the verge of despair, waiting for the first signs of the sun so he could escape back out into the world. Narrowly evade the ghosts of the past who still roamed the halls of his home, who dragged and nipped at his heels like meddlesome dogs. He wanted someone who would remain with him when the charming smiles and the uproarious laughter had ended. Someone who could understand the man under that thick facade, find it in themselves to love him unconditionally. He had thought he had found it in one woman, her eyes bright and dark, but she couldn’t commit to anyone. He had thought he had found it in one man, his smile slightly crooked, but he had fallen for someone else. He had borne all those disappointments silently, laughed it off, pretended he didn’t care. But they had all felt like fierce blows, he wondered sometimes if he would ever find that person who he could trust with those secret desires of his heart. Looking at Zenyatta, he thought he might be able to. 

 

Without the monk by his side, Genji was given to wandering. He did so only as a distraction, a way to keep himself moving lest bitter memories overtake him. He walked along long stony paths covered in freshly fallen snow, explored the nooks and crannies and dimly lit recesses of the building, admired the stone carvings and the vast tapestries and large statues laid out about the grounds. It reminded him strongly of their time in India, admiring images of the gods, their eyes seemingly peering into the hidden spaces of his soul. He felt listless though in the wake of all this beauty and begrudgingly lonely. It felt strange to admit that, even to himself. He had been on the road for months with no one to depend on but himself, with only his fond memories and own labored breathing for company. He had fooled himself into thinking he could continue that way, that he didn’t need anyone. 

 

He was beginning to see how lonely he was, examining those still and quiet moments he had spent holed up in hotels or out in wide open spaces. A sociable man trying to sate himself with the bitter waters of forced solitude. It never took, without even realizing it he had tried to find covert methods of socialization. But wherever he went he had never stayed long, he wasn’t sure if it was due to his own need to keep moving, or if he simply couldn’t bear the idea of being alone with his thoughts for too long. Even then, the constant movement of travel hadn’t always been enough to quell his tumultuous thoughts, only when he was with Zenyatta did they cease to torment him, he had to wonder when he had grown so used to that gentle monk by his side. “He can’t be with you all the time”, he told himself sternly “You have to keep going”, he thought as he entered a large chamber, votives and half burned candles littered the floor along with rows of mats. “They must meditate here”, he thought as he walked to the far end of the room, a large tapestry hung on the wall, the same design woven into its fabric. 

 

The Iris. He wondered if he would be able to touch upon it, what exactly did it feel like? What did it really mean? He remembered Zenyatta’s explanation, but it seemed inscrutable to him. The highest planes of his mind, undisturbed by worldly cares, to know his place in the universe, to experience the deepest and most primal knowledge of the world. That they were all somehow connected by intangible threads, that they had all emerged from some metaphysical world and would some day have to return to it. To be one with the universe and all that entailed. He had never been much into the spiritual. He preferred things he could see and things he could feel. He had told that to Hanzo once, who had seemed taken aback by his words “Genji, we are in a family with literal spirit dragons. How can you not believe in the spirit world?”, he had asked him. He had said he didn’t doubt that there was such a place but just didn’t care about it. Hanzo had looked thoughtful for a moment “What? You can’t tell me you think this stuff is really important?”, he had asked him. “I think there is merit in treating it with respect”, was all Hanzo had said in return. Zenyatta came to his room later that night as he watched the sun begin its slow retreat from the sky, the fading light painting the mountain tops with orange and pinkish hues. The monk came in with a sigh and sat down on the mat next to him.

 

“What’s wrong?”, Genji asked, his tone edged with concern. 

 

“I asked my brother Mondatta if he had seen any suspicious persons nearby. Anyone who might fit the description of a Talon agent.” 

 

“Did he?” 

 

“No, although he did admit to seeing some aircraft a few days ago.” 

 

“Did he remember what they looked like?”

 

“Small, black, unmarked.” 

 

“That does sound like Talon transports.”

 

“We do have the occasional plane come through from time to time.”

 

“It’s still worth taking precautions, though.”

 

“Yes, I did suggest putting up some kind of a defense. Sadly, he didn’t agree to it.” 

 

“What? Why not? Doesn’t he understand what could happen?” 

 

“I believe he does, but not everyone here shares my thoughts on such matters. Violence is not the first response, but unfortunately, there are moments where pacifism is not always the answer.”

 

“I still don’t see how he can refuse having a defense system in place. Isn’t he worried about everyone’s safety?” 

 

“He is, but I believe he is also thinking of what doing so would mean.” 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“It is as you said, there are still many people who are fearful of omnics. For someone to catch wind that the peaceful Shambali monastery has been outfitted with turrets would raise many questions in fearful minds.” 

 

“I can’t believe that he’s more worried about bad publicity over his own people”, Genji said, his voice shaken with outrage.

 

“Your anger is not misplaced Genji, but I’m afraid there’s no way around it.” 

 

“Do you honestly believe that? Or is that just the answer you gave him?” 

 

“The only answer I gave him was that I believed he should think and meditate on his next actions.” 

 

“Well, you definitely told him.” 

 

“Perhaps it is not the wittiest retort, but I believe he will think on what we discussed.” 

 

“And what if he doesn’t? What if he still thinks you shouldn’t have a defense system in place?” 

 

“Then we will have to find other means of making sure that no harm comes to the monastery.” 

 

“We?” 

 

“You and I”, Zenyatta said, a hint of mischief in his voice. 

 

Genji suddenly felt like a kid again, in on a secret, or constructing a prank, stifling laughter as he drew out different cunning scenarios in colored pencil. “Ah, so now you want me to go behind your brother’s back?”, Genji asked, his tone teasing and sly. 

 

“No”, Zenyatta said, his fingers fidgeting slightly. 

 

“You know you’re not a very good liar.” 

 

“I am not lying Genji. I only wish to take this course of action should he opt to not go through with anything.” 

 

“And if he does?” 

 

“Then we will work together on this matter.” 

 

Genji sighed “I don’t really like waiting around.” 

 

“I have noticed”, Zenyatta said with a chuckle “But there is merit to being patient, especially at times such as these.” 

 

“I guess so”, Genji said, as the final rays of sun faded and the night grew cold and dark. He and Zenyatta watched as the first stars of early evening came into view until the sky was brimming with them. “Did you enjoy your first day here?”, Zenyatta asked suddenly. 

 

“I did, though it felt strange not having you around all day.” 

 

“Yes, I have to admit I have grown quite used to your company as well Genji. These next few days are sure to be an adjustment.” 

 

Genji’s face grew warm at his admission, he changed the subject trying to will away the blush that had no doubt crept on his face. Instead, he decided to distract himself with small talk, not daring to address his attraction, not yet. “Did you and Suman get the bell clean?” 

 

“Oh yes, after a great deal of scrubbing and trepidation on poor Suman’s part.” 

 

“I could help out in the future”, he offered, hoping it would be a good distraction, a way to lure his mind away from taking him down the unfathomable and dark roads of his memory, getting caught in the mire of the past. 

 

“Wonderful, I’m sure he and the others would appreciate the help”, Zenyatta said happily. 

 

“Yeah, I would too”, he said quietly. 

 

“What did you say?” 

 

“Oh, nothing.” 

 

“Come now Genji, there is obviously something on your mind.” 

 

Genji sighed, he had been around the monk long enough to know that trying to hide things away never worked for long. It still dismayed him that Zenyatta was always able to see through him. “It’s really not important”, he said. 

 

“Regardless, I would like to know.” 

 

“I was just thinking that maybe this might help me to not think about the past as frequently.” 

 

Zenyatta hummed “I had been meaning to ask you about that. How have your thoughts been?” 

 

“About the same”, Genji replied tiredly “They didn’t come as frequently when we were traveling”, he said. “Or when I’m with you”, he thought. 

 

“I had thought so, it is always easier to silence chaotic thoughts when the mind is preoccupied.” 

 

Genji sighed “I know that. I just wish I could be through this already.” 

 

“You have been through much. It will take time to heal.” 

 

“How long?”, Genji asked, only partly a hypothetical question. 

 

“It’s hard to say”, Zenyatta answered truthfully. 

 

“You sound like someone else I know”, Genji said thinking back to Angela’s face when he had asked her how long it would take him to be fully rehabilitated, how long would it take until he felt whole again, how long would it take to extinguish the rancor he bore for Hanzo. She had given, what he deemed to be, unsatisfactory answers at the time and he had limped down the length of the hallway in a dour mood, his legs buckling underneath him from the weight of his injuries. He felt a cool hand on his shoulder. 

 

“Don’t let your thoughts wander too far Genji”, Zenyatta said next to him “Lest they take you somewhere painful.” 

 

“There’s not many places for them to go, other than there.” 

 

“I’m not sure I can believe that when you wove such a sweet tale of your family at the onsen.” 

 

Genji thought about it briefly, he had to concede to that, he did have a vast array of tender memories, those that he cherished and held dear to him. Memories of his first bowl of ramen fragrant and steaming. His mother throwing her head back with laughter as his father was swarmed by a large group of rabbits and had to be dragged out a moment later as they ran over him, threatening to smother him. “You enjoyed that far too much”, he said, she had laughed again “It’s not the worst way to go”, she said as he smiled. Pranks he and a less stern Hanzo had engaged in, stifling laughter all the way. Nights where he couldn’t sleep and he had woken Hanzo up demanding to be told a story. “How will that help?”, Hanzo had asked wearily, only 8 at the time. “It always works when mom does it”, he said throwing himself back into bed settling under the covers. “Fine, but just this once”, and Hanzo had set about reciting him a tale of two dragons, weaving their serpentine bodies through an ancient sky. 

 

He had many memories, ones that still shone brightly amidst the haze of his mind, the only problem is that such memories easily gave way to bitter ones. The first meal after his surgery, tasteless in his mouth, something he had merely choked down as a display of good faith between him and Angela. His mother’s funeral. The laughter extinguished overnight, the look of abject dread in his father’s eyes as their car reached the tomb, clutching his knees in a white-knuckled grip, Hanzo sitting next to him barely holding back tears. He and Hanzo growing farther apart. Until finally it seemed as if they were strangers, that all those good times they had shared were nothing more than a dream, some fantasy he had imagined hoping to alleviate some of the pain. He realized how unhealthy it was to let those tenuous associations pull him to memories that left him miserable and anxious. He knew at some point he would have to put an end to it, move on, not let the past drag him down. But it was difficult, and it only seemed to be getting worse. He leaned forward for a moment, hands on his knees trying to steady himself. 

 

“Genji”, Zenyatta called out hesitantly. 

 

“Don’t worry, I’m alright”, he said “I know I can’t continue this way”, he said tiredly. 

 

“That in itself is good, to realize you need help is just the first step.”

 

“So, what’s the second?” 

 

“Acceptance. Accepting what happened, accepting yourself as you are now and that you cannot change how things happened, but you can change how you deal with them now.” 

 

Genji shook his head “I don’t think I can do that.”

 

“Not yet?” 

 

“Not ever.” 

 

“You will have to if you wish to improve. If you truly wish to quell the anger and confusion that I sensed in you from the start then you will have to try.” 

 

“I want to...but it’s hard.” 

 

“I never said it would be easy. But it will become so in time.” 

 

They lapsed into a comfortable silence after that, the two of them watching the night sky until Zenyatta was pulled away to speak with one of his students. Genji thought about what he had said, he already knew accepting his situation was the only way he could have peace, but it seemed nigh impossible. “Even so, you have to try”, he thought as he laid his memories bare, trying to make sense of his suffering, trying to see if he could cautiously begin to accept things as they were. He remembered his time laying on the floor of the castle, pinned by his brother's sword, his blood creating a steady flow onto the wood panels. He had looked into the pitchy abysmal eyes of death, its maw dark and gaping, wondering if he would survive this ordeal, if he even wanted to with the pain he was now privy to. The turmoil of knowing his murderer, his own brother, had left him there to die. The terror of that, and then darkness, urgent voices overhead. 

 

“We should try to get his consent first.” 

 

“We don’t have much time”, said a feminine voice tinged with urgency. 

 

His vision swam but he could see a face blurrily come into focus. A man with tawny skin and dark eyes, two scars etched across his cheek, was kneeling over him. “Hey, can you hear me? Blink twice if you can.” He barely managed it. 

 

“Good. Listen, I know you’re not in good enough condition to talk, so I’ll get to the point. We can put you back together.” 

 

“What?”, he rasped. 

 

“I won’t let you see what’s going on. It’s not a pretty sight trust me, but like I said we can give you another chance. Help us dismantle the clan and we’ll put you back together. Give you a chance to get back at the bastards who did this to you. But if you decide to do it, you do it by the book. Under our rules, got it?” 

 

“Gabe, you shouldn’t be-” 

 

“We have a deal or what?” 

 

Genji felt anger boil up inside him, the ghostly shape of the dragon just barely rolling off what was left of him before he bit back his rage long enough for it to subside, and the dragon disappeared. “Deal.” 

 

The next time he woke up it was to the sound of someone screaming. He realized a second later that it was him, his voice going hoarse and shaky as strong hands held him down as Angela tried to continue her work. He couldn’t calm down, he was too panicked, the dragon burst forth from the ink on what was left of his back, vivid but slightly torn and ragged around the edges. It let out a loud bellow that overturned trays and rattled equipment, it tore around the room in a mad frenzy seeking out the source of its master’s rage. It’s gaze latched onto Angela, her eyes wide with alarm, it came surging towards her only to be extinguished a moment later as someone hit him with a tranquilizer, knocking him unconscious again. 

 

The next time he woke up he was whole again, in the physical sense of the word. Angela was nearby checking his chart via a tablet, he remembered her look of surprise that he was waking up so soon. He had felt panic and anxiety run through him, icy cold and sickening, as he tried to move his hands. Seeing the movements, registering them with his mind, but not feeling the flex of his fingers or the brushing of his palm against the med bay blankets laid over him. Taking in the wires and steel plates that now made up his physique had caused him to shoot out of bed. He ran off, faster than he ever could have had he been just a man, and staggered to the nearest mirror, taking in that strange new body. He might as well be dead he had thought, he was already entombed. Angela was beside him, admonishing him for running off, he had rounded on her then, angrily demanding what she had done to him. 

 

“I saved your life”, she said, her tone resolute. 

 

“Is this what you consider saving my life?”, he asked angrily close to shouting, his voice raspy from screaming “You’ve turned me into some kind of omnic thing.” 

 

“You’re a cyborg technically, and yes I did save your life. I couldn’t just leave you to die”, she said, her eyes had gone steely with her resolve. He would come to admire that later, but now he just found it infuriating. 

 

“Who cares what you call it. I didn’t ask for this.” 

 

“You told commander Reyes that you wished to be saved. This was the best I could do with what was left.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“Surely you must have known. You were gravely wounded, almost beyond saving.” 

 

He thought back to his time spent on the floor, the fight that had ensued after the verbal sparring he and Hanzo had engaged in, the pain. He dropped to his knees suddenly exhausted, Angela kneeling beside him trying to soothe him, and then darkness overtook him. 

 

He woke again, this time he was alone. The room was dark, he looked over to the clock, 5 minutes past midnight. 7:05 back home. Then suddenly, inexplicably, his eyes filled with tears. He found no reason now to hold them back as he sat there in the darkness of the med bay, his body racked with sobs he couldn’t feel. He had continued that way for a long time, even when he was rehabilitated he kept to himself, giving the other agents a wide berth. Although they did try to include him in their fun he had always declined, at times not so politely, he had bitter feelings for the people involved in his fate. Reyes, who he only saw occasionally, usually being shadowed by the blonde strike commander. Angela. Even those who had nothing to do with his condition felt the sting of his anger at times, he would always realize too late and awkwardly apologize before dashing off to sequester himself away. He was about to do the same one night when he had overheard a conversation that had stopped him in his tracks. 

 

“I’m still not sure if that was the right decision to make”, that was Morrison’s voice. He had only heard it a few times, but he recognized it instantly. He peeked around the corner to see Reyes next to him, leaning against the countertop, a steaming mug in his hand. 

 

“What? You would have liked it if I just left him there to die?” 

 

“No, but making that deal with him?” 

 

“Everyone’s gotta have something to fight for”, Reyes said shrugging.

 

“Maybe, and maybe that’s how you motivate your squad over in Blackwatch, but he made that decision under duress. It’s against protocol.” 

 

“Look, it was either induct him in, or leave him bleeding out all over my shoes. You really think Overwatch was gonna pay for a million dollar surgery for a civilian out of the goodness of their hearts? Please”, Reyes said with a wave of his hand “I don’t like it either, but Jack we both know Overwatch is not what it used to be. Maybe back in the day when we were both green they would have saved him. Took some money out, done it just because it would be the right thing to do, no one left behind and all that bull, but not anymore. I made a decision and I’m sticking to it.” 

 

“I still don’t like it.” 

 

“You don’t have to.” 

 

“From the looks of it, he doesn’t either.” 

 

“If he’s got any complaints tell him to leave them on my desk. I’ll be sure they make it into the circular file.” 

 

Genji had listened raptly by the door until their conversation fell into banter and general teasing. He had resented Reyes before, but now he wasn’t sure quite how to feel about him.

 

He had barely shaken off the malaise of the med bay, or the pain from the surgery before he was thrust head first into a mission. He hadn’t anticipated going back home, nor did he anticipate the way his breathing quickened when he saw the castle or the way his hands began to tremble as he tried to unsheathe his sword. No one seemed to notice, save for McCree who was nearby loading his gun and noticed the violent shaking of his hands as he tried to grip his sword. 

 

“You alright there?”, McCree asked.

 

“I am fine”, he lied through gritted teeth. 

 

“Is that right? Seems like your hands are telling a different story”, he said pointing to the erratic movement of his fingers. 

 

He set his sword down with a loud clatter “It’s none of your business.” 

 

“Sure seems like it’s about to be.” 

 

Genji put his head in his hands, suddenly exhausted. 

 

“Hey, look if you ain’t up to it that’s fine. The rest of us can handle it.” 

 

“The whole reason I’m here is to help disassemble the clan. It would be pathetic to show up and not even do my job. I will carry out my task”, he said coolly, trying to shake off the haze of fear that had suddenly come over him. 

 

McCree didn’t look convinced “If you’re sure pardner”, he answered, stubbing out his cigarillo against the wall. 

 

The operation went well, despite the fact that by the time they returned to base Genji was close to physical sickness from the weight of his anxiety. He stumbled off to his room, leaning against the wall for support, cursing under his breath as he went. The only thing that helped to burn away the feeling was the knowledge that he had managed to kill some of the clan elders with his own hands, relishing in the barely contained fear on their faces. He knew the others had to have heard the news by now and were either readying themselves for a strike or fleeing somewhere safe. He didn’t care if it took him the rest of his miserable life, he would find every last one of them and color his sword with their blood. He finally made it to his room, he staggered inside and flopped on the bed. Angela had told him this would happen, that he was leaving too soon, that his body may be fully healed but his mind was still feeling the full effect of his ordeal. He had protested that he needed to go back to Hanamura to get closure. “Closure or revenge?”, she asked, he hadn't answered her, though judging by her frown she had already guessed what the answer was. Why should he deny himself the pleasure of taking them out? Didn’t he deserve justice? Ultimately, wasn’t it the right thing to do? 

 

He didn't think long on that before he heard a knock on the door “What is it?”, he barked. 

 

“Ain’t a what, just a who”, said that familiar voice from the other side of the door. 

 

“McCree”, he thought. “What do you want?”, he asked. 

 

“Just wanted to stop by and see how you were holding up. You were shaking like a leaf when you got off the transport.” 

 

“I am fine”, he lied again. 

 

There was a slight pause, a hesitation “You sure about that?” 

 

Genji wasn’t sure whether to tell him to leave or invite him in. He decided at the very least to stop yelling through the door. He opened it to see McCree standing there, a small case of beer in his hand, Genji’s eyes flicked down to them. 

 

“Is that for me?”, he asked. 

 

McCree chuckled “Well, not all of them”, he said. 

 

Genji weighed the conflicting desires in his mind “Come in”, he said suddenly. 

 

“Much obliged”, McCree said as he strolled in, setting the beers on the bedside table. 

 

Genji sat back down on his bed, feeling slightly less somber with the cowboy’s warm presence in the room. “What do you want McCree?”, he asked, still trying to shake off his discomfort. 

 

“Not much, just figured you might wanna talk.” 

 

“About what?” 

 

“All sorts of things the weather, your interests, whatever you’re going through.” 

 

Genji froze “I told you that was none of your business.” 

 

“Maybe not, but it sure as hell is when a new teammate almost gets himself killed.” 

 

“I did not.” 

 

“That fella had you pinned to the ground with a gun between your eyes.” 

 

“And yet I’m not dead.” 

 

McCree snorted “Yeah, ‘cause some dashing rogue saved your ass.” 

 

Genji waved his hand dismissively “I’m not sure about dashing.” 

 

“Hey now, you saying you seen better than all this?”, Mccree said gesturing to himself with a wide smirk on his face. 

 

“Far better”, Genji replied smugly. 

 

McCree staggered back into the wall as if hit in the chest “That was mighty cold Genji.” 

 

Genji wanted to laugh but didn’t have the energy to, he simply smiled behind his helm. McCree regained his composure and offered him a beer, Genji took it on reflex. “You don’t have to tell me your life story. Every man’s got his secrets, but if you ever need to blow off some steam I’d be happy to listen.” 

 

“Why do you even care?”, Genji asked, bewildered. 

 

“Everybody needs someone to lean on”, McCree said with a shrug. 

 

It had continued like that for months afterward. McCree coming by late in the evening to talk, mostly keeping the conversation revolving around interests, and work. Only occasionally would Genji lay bare his current suffering, the anger that felt close to consuming him. Never telling the gunslinger the whole story, evading his past troubled as it was, the topic of his family, his brother. McCree never pressed, he seemed to understand. He wove his own tales of long nights under a swollen moon out in the desert, a father who had left him only a few crumpled bills and a truck to his name. Long stretches of road offset by huge cacti, a gang full of rebellious kids and hardened old men, an operation that went south, a bounty on his head, Blackwatch, and finally his induction to Overwatch. Genji listened attentively, McCree was good company. He felt relaxed around him, more so than anyone else on base. He still regretted not telling him that he had planned to leave. 

 

Genji’s first night in the monastery was restless. His dreams tainted with the memories of the previous night, and he still felt like he was no closer to accepting any of what had happened to him. He thought about Zenyatta’s words, that things would become easier with time, he sincerely hoped so, he hadn’t slept well at all. He had considered going next door, seeking solace in Zenyatta’s presence, but as he had lifted himself from his bed he realized how clingy that seemed and had willed himself back to sleep. Now he was wishing he had gone with his first mind, he had spent far too long tossing and turning. He put aside his fatigue and walked next door, Zenyatta’s door was already open, the monk still sleeping peacefully. He knelt down, ready to try to rouse him, he let his eyes rove over the monk’s sleeping form for a moment, a small grain of fondness bloomed in his chest. He would have never thought that this strange but wonderful monk would become such a source of knowledge and fun for him, and so quickly too. He wondered for a moment if he would still feel this way if he were fully human, would he still find the coolness of Zenyatta’s fingers comforting, find the design of his faceplate a beautiful sight, would he still admire his height, the broadness of his shoulders, the slim line of his waist, the depth and cadence of his voice. He liked to think that despite everything he would still find it in himself to find the monk attractive, there were, after all, many things to admire. 

 

He decided to be more gentle in his approach today, so instead of his usual prodding he yelled at the top of his lungs “Zenyatta, wake up!”

 

The monk came to life with a jolt, his orbs circling him in a crazed arc, he looked over to where Genji was still kneeling by his bed and cocked his head to one side “It’s good to see you this morning Genji but didn’t I ask you for gentler means of waking me up?” 

 

Genji sat back on his haunches “That was gentle. I didn’t shake you.” 

 

“It certainly wasn’t gentle on my auditory sensors”, Zenyatta said, shaking his head in dismay.

 

“Maybe if you would wake earlier”, Genji said with a laugh. 

 

“You are relentless”, Zenyatta sighed, still in good humor. 

 

“The focus of the ninja”, Genji said, his tone going mysterious and dark. 

 

Zenyatta chuckled as he slipped out of bed to get dressed, he draped himself in the same brilliant ochre robe Genji had met him in, tying it in such a way that part of his chest and his right arm were bared. Genji watched him silently from the floor, still marveling at his gleaming anatomy, a feeling that was quickly accompanied by an urge to touch. He sighed heavily, this was new territory for him, he wasn’t used to waiting like this. When he had been young, if he had seen someone he desired he would pursue them without question, without fail. So, what was he waiting on?

 

“Is something bothering you Genji?”, Zenyatta asked. 

 

No, I’m fine”, he said, feeling flustered “I came over wondering if you knew if any of the monks needed help with some chores today.” 

 

“Ah, of course”, Zenyatta answered, “Follow me.” 

 

He followed on the monk’s heels, Zenyatta gives him over to scrubbing down the walls of a large antechamber with a few other monks. One of them was Suman, who looked to be overwhelmed with the size of the room they’ve been stationed to clean. Zenyatta offered him a few kind words before slipping off, presumably to finish his own chores or check on his pupils. 

 

“He’s probably off to talk with brother Mondatta”, Suman said between scrubs, putting his rag down for a moment to rest, he had been working not long after the sun had risen. 

 

“About what?”, Genji asked, soaking his rag in soapy water. 

 

“I’m not sure, I just overheard part of their conversation as I was walking to my room last night, it sounded like they were having an argument.” 

 

“Really?”, Genji asked, unable to imagine the monk even raising his voice or giving into anger. 

 

“Well, arguing for them is more like a slightly louder disagreement”, he said, continuing his work.

 

Genji thinks about the other night, Zenyatta’s plot if his brother didn’t heed his advice. He didn't like waiting. The uncertainty, someone making the decisions for him, a sparrow with clipped wings. Genji shook his head “Try to be patient”, he told himself. “So, Zenyatta and Mondatta, they’ve been together a long time?”, he asked trying to put his mind on other things, quiet the anxiety that was slowly twisting his guts. 

 

“Oh yeah, they were born together”, Suman answers, scrubbing at a particularly resistant spot only to realize it's part of the wall, he slaps his forehead in dismay, Genji chuckles under his breath. 

 

“I haven’t been here for very long, but I do know some things from the others”, he said going for another spot, one that actually comes off, he pumps his fist once in elation “They built this organization from the ground up. They’ve worked together for a long time, but even then they still have disagreements, usually over bigger issues.”

 

“Like what?”, Genji asked, suddenly intrigued. 

 

“About the future of the Shambali, about which direction the order is going to go. From what I’ve seen brother Zenyatta is more of a people person. He likes to make connections, engage with them, find out how they’re feeling. He believes that’s the best way to get our teachings across is through interpersonal contact, not just going to the monasteries. But going out into the world, where people may not be as accepting and looking for commonality. Now Mondatta, he’s a different story, he prefers the crowds.” 

 

“But, that’s still engaging with people.”

 

“Sure, but with the crowd, you don’t know how much of an impact you’re really going to make. Yeah, you can get the talking points of what you want across, but who knows if it’s really sinking in or not. Also, if you have a bunch of stubborn people in your audience, some of them dragged there by friends and family I doubt a couple of speeches will change their minds. Not when their hatred is so deeply ingrained. That’s when it’s good to get to know people.” 

 

“So, you agree with Zenyatta’s approach?” 

 

“They both have their pros and cons. Not everyone is going to change, no matter what you do. But, all I know is that Zenyatta made me feel like I was worth something. I had listened to Mondatta speeches and they were nice and inspiring, but they didn’t do much to make me feel like I was more than what people thought I was. Zenyatta made me feel like I could actually break out of that box people had put me in. That it was worth it to try.” 

 

Genji thought about his words “I know what you mean”, he said. 

 

The day continued in that way for the next few hours. Chore after chore was completed, until the monotony of work became almost meditative. His breathing slowed after hours of scrubbing the walls, the anxious twists of his stomach ceased as they swept the courtyard, and his mind began to quiet as they rubbed down the bell. He and Suman continued their conversation through each task. The other monk was interesting company, fairly young, slightly anxious and put-upon, but kind all the same. He didn’t tell the monk of his troubles, his worries, the memories that plagued him well into the night. Instead, he told him stories of Overwatch, valiant heroes, firefights, missions that seemed hopeless but then at the last minute happy endings were pulled out, like a burning phoenix rising from the ash of its own immolation. 

 

Suman listened raptly, asking questions frequently, until for a moment his past, bitter and strained was temporarily forgotten. A few of the other monks stopped by, their own chores done for the day, to beg for some stories, some form of excitement. He had obliged them, also working in some tales of the other agent’s exploits before they made it to Overwatch. They had all listened intently until it was time for them to disburse and meditate. Genji declined the invitation to do the same and wandered off in search of Zenyatta. He found him in his room, predictably he was meditating, but what gave Genji pause was the fact that he was hovering a few inches off the floor, his orbs circling him slowly, chiming sweet low notes. He sat down next to him pondering on whether or not he should disturb him, itching for some attention, he decided against it. He couldn’t always rely on Zenyatta to soothe him, he had to be able to stand on his own two feet. “You were able to do it today, and you’ll have to do it when you eventually leave”, he thought with a hint of sadness. 

 

A few moments later Zenyatta’s head came up, his orbs settling around his neck “Ah, Genji it’s good to see you. How were the chores?” 

 

“Monotonous, but the company was good”, he said. 

 

“Excellent”, he says, his tone happy, but it sounds hesitant, stunted. It’s his turn for concern. 

 

“Zenyatta? What’s going on?” 

 

Zenyatta settles on the floor, his legs still crossed in the lotus position, he seems tired “I spoke with Mondatta earlier about putting up some sort of defenses around the monastery. I had asked him if he had thought about it, meditated on it.”

 

“And?” 

 

“He did, and he still refused.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“I was as startled as you are Genji.”

 

“Did you explain to him everything that could happen? Everything that would happen if they made it here?” 

 

“I did. In great detail.” 

 

“And he still said no?” 

 

“Amazingly, yes”, Zenyatta said, sounding baffled. 

 

Genji stood up “I’ll go speak with him.” 

 

“I doubt it will do any good. Once Mondatta makes up his mind it is nigh impossible to change it.” 

 

“So we go through with what you said then?”, Genji asked, ready to do something, anything to ease his anxiety over Zenyatta and the other’s safety. 

 

“I have been meditating on that, and I’m beginning to wonder if that’s the best course of action.” 

 

“What? Of course, it is. It's obvious Talon is planning something. At least if you had some turrets you’d have some time to escape.” 

 

“You speak the truth, but it seems strange going behind my brother’s back.” 

 

“You don’t have to then.”

 

“What?” 

 

“I’ll do it.” 

 

“I appreciate the sentiment Genji, truly, but I can’t ask you to do that.” 

 

“You haven’t. I’m doing it on my own.” 

 

“But still-” 

 

“Don’t worry about it”, Genji said “What can Mondatta do to me? Chase me off the premises?” 

 

“Of course not, he would merely give you the dustiest and oldest room in the monastery.” 

 

“I can handle that.” 

 

“I’m not sure Genji it is has gone untouched for too long.There is layer of dust on everything at least 3 inches thick”, Zenyatta said, teasing him half-heartedly. 

 

“I’d endure it”, Genji says “I’d endure a lot of things to keep you safe.” 

 

Zenyatta looks up at him, his lights shining a little brighter in the fading light. His face grows hot again, suddenly hit with the impact of his words. “And the others of course”, he adds quickly, clearing his throat. 

 

“Of course”, Zenyatta says, his tone laced with fondness. 

 

“Well, I’ll get to it then”, he says “But I’ll need a phone and I’m guessing you don’t have one around.” 

 

Zenyatta laughs “Though this is a monastery, we are not without modern conveniences”, he said simply. 

 

After a good deal of searching, Zenyatta presented him with a phone. It was an older model and obviously hadn’t been used in a long time, but he was thankful nonetheless. Zenyatta left him to his task and he went off to a secluded area of the building to make the call to Overwatch. He didn’t know who to call. Angela? He was sure to get an earful about leaving without saying goodbye. After a few moments, he punched in a familiar number, one he had called many times looking for comfort or a good laugh. Though he realized, as he set about to punching in the numbers with shaking fingers that he most likely wouldn’t get any service, and even if he did he had to wonder if McCree was still with Overwatch. 

 

As he had told him, one night sipping his beer, his spurs jangling as he hoisted his legs up and onto the rail of the watchtower, he didn’t like staying in one place too long. But had conceded that it wasn’t bad being in one place if you had a good group of friends to watch your back. Genji had only nodded, once again sullen thinking about his own past. He had always appreciated McCree never pressing for answers when he lapsed into those moods. He had simply let him work through them, whether it took days, or weeks was immaterial to him. “‘Ya don’t have to tell me anything”, he had said one night, the beer replaced by hot chocolate due to the change in weather “But, if you ever do want to talk I’ll be right here.” 

 

He had smiled weakly behind his helm and visor “So, you’re moving out here then?” 

 

“Wh-” 

 

“You said you’d be right here. I just thought it would be more convenient if you moved out here. That way when I do feel like talking you never miss me”, Genji said, the teasing helping to clear away some of the pain. 

 

“Now, I know you must be feeling better.” 

 

“Why do you say that?” 

 

“Shoot, anytime you start pulling my leg I know you must be feeling like yourself again.” 

 

Genji thinks on that exchange with fondness. As he waited for the call not to go through he began running through a mental list of other means of communication, other operatives he could get in contact with. His mind ran through the major talking points of his concern, he had to wonder if he was perhaps being too paranoid, surely Talon wouldn’t attempt another attack so quickly. As soon as he thought it, he realized how utterly absurd that sounded. It didn’t matter if the attack came next week, or not at all, he couldn’t sit idly by when they posed a potential threat. He still couldn’t fathom as to why Mondatta would turn down a chance to keep his brothers safe. He drummed his fingers against the wall, he supposed if he were not supportive of omnics and he heard that a so-called peaceful monastery had been outfitted with even one turret he would find it strange. In his way, Mondatta was probably saving them a great deal of grief, perhaps even further attacks from the average outraged human. “Better to deal with some bad publicity than to be dead”, Genji thought. Before he could spiral further into his anxious imaginings he heard the connection crackle into life, a deep smooth voice called out over the line. 

 

“McCree here.” 

 

“Jesse”, he cried, the weight of the past few years seeming to hit him all at once. He had been gone so long. 

 

“Genji, is that you? Man, it’s been too dang long”, he says sounding elated but dismayed “You doing alright?” 

 

“More or less.” 

 

“Good to hear it, but where the hell you been?” 

 

“Everywhere.” 

 

“I don’t doubt it. It’s good to hear from ‘ya. Can’t say I’m too happy about you bailing on us, though. You didn’t even leave a note.” 

 

“Yes, I did. On my door.” 

 

“That chicken scratch? It barely told us anything, you had everyone moping around base for weeks.” 

 

“It told you enough.” 

 

He could hear McCree snort over the phone, he heard a faint rustle, like papers being shuffled. “I’m not coming back, signed Genji”, McCree read “Now either there’s another explanation here written in invisible ink, or we were all just left high and dry.” 

 

“You kept my note? 

 

“You’re damn right I did. I’ve been trying to make sense of it ever since ‘ya left.” 

 

Genji thinks “I thought it was pretty self-explanatory.” 

 

“It was, but I was just trying to figure out why you’d leave without saying goodbye.” 

 

Genji fell silent. McCree sighed “Look, I get it. They brought ‘ya in when you were in a bad way. No one expected you to stay as long as you did. I guess we all just figured at the very least we could have sent you off in style.” 

 

“What did you have in mind?” 

 

“Oh you know, food, beer, bad karaoke, Reinhardt crushing you to death with a bear hug. The works. 

 

“That would have been nice”, he said with a faint smile “But I don’t think I could have endured it. Writing that note was hard enough”, he confessed in a low tired voice. 

 

“Is that why your trash can was so full of paper wads?” 

 

“You went into my room?” 

 

“I’ve been in it before.” 

 

“With my permission, or when I was there, though.” 

 

“Hey, don’t go making me the bad guy. I know you’ve been in my room when I wasn’t there.”

 

“You can’t prove that.”

 

“Yeah? Halloween. Two years ago.” 

 

“I was looking for something.” 

 

“Well, you sure as hell weren't gonna find any candy in my bed.” 

 

“I was cold and looking for a blanket.” 

 

“You sure about that? Seems to me like someone got drunk and just ended up all wrapped up in my serape.” 

 

He remembered that night. His first bottle of beer in years, drinking alone in his room after the festivities had ended, making the long walk to McCree's room seeking company. He wasn’t there so he had curled up in his bed, the red serape laid bare on the disheveled sheets, him clinging to it like a lifeline through the haze of inebriation. He woke up to McCree patting him on the back trying to rouse him from a nightmare, he pushed the memories aside.

 

“Jesse, there was a reason I called.” 

 

“Other than to listen to my dulcet tones?” 

 

“If that’s what want to call them.” 

 

He heard a fond, but muffled “Cold as ice”, before he responded “Ok, so what’s going on then? Judging from this number you’re in Nepal?”, he questioned, “What are you doing all the way out there?” 

 

“Becoming a monk”, Genji said with a grin. 

 

“Naw, what’s the real reason?” 

 

“What you don’t believe that I could become a monk?”, he asked, feigning hurt. 

 

McCree chuckled “Naw. Besides you’re like me, don’t like to be tied down too long, gotta keep moving. Unless of course, you found some nice people out there.”

 

“I have”, Genji said warmly, thinking of quiet laughter and cool fingers. 

 

“Well, that explains it then”, he replied, “They must be awful nice to keep you there.” 

 

“Yes”, Genji assured him “But, I wanted to speak with you about Talon.” 

 

“Aw, hell. What’s going on?” 

 

“I saw two of their agents up here with a hostile Bastion unit” 

 

“Damn, are you serious?” 

 

“Yes, I managed to dispatch them, but I think they were headed to the Shambali monastery.” 

 

McCree didn’t say anything for a moment “Makes sense, they have been going after peaceful omnic groups lately.” Genji felt his anger rise, the dragon ready to rip itself from his back, he shook his head. 

 

“I wanted to know if it was possible to get some kind of protection up here for them?” 

 

“What’d you have in mind?”, Mccree asked. 

 

“A good line of turrets would help”, he said thinking of Torbjorn. He knew the man had expressed his dislike for omnics, but perhaps he could persuade him to do him this favor, they did have a good rapport. 

 

“Sorry, no can do, Torb’s out on a mission. But I could hook you up with this new recruit we got.” 

 

“New recruit?” 

 

“Yeah, a real genius. She’s doing some work in India right now. If you want I could put in a good word for you, get her to stop by on her way back.” 

 

“That would be great.” 

 

“Consider it done”, McCree said. 

 

“Thank you again, Jesse.” 

 

“No problem. Glad to hear you’re holding up ok, even though I did sass ‘ya a bit.” 

 

“You could have given me worse.” 

 

“And it’d be justified, but I figured I should try to show some mercy since we haven’t spoken for a spell.” 

 

“Yeah”, Genji said taking comfort in the familiarity “I have missed you, you know.” 

 

“Can’t blame you”, McCree said smugly.

 

Genji rolled his eyes “Alright, I’m getting off the phone.” 

 

“Hold on now, don’t go running off just yet. Just wanted to tell ‘ya to take care of yourself. I don’t know if our paths will cross any time soon, but hey here’s hoping.” 

 

“Yeah”, Genji said, as he heard the line fall silent, and walked off to find Zenyatta. The last remnant of his anxiety ebbing away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of dialogue, introspection, set-up, and flashbacks this chapter. Next chapter we'll start getting into some romance as well Genji finally starting to come to terms with things. I'm playing pretty fast and loose with the timeline, mostly because it suits my needs. Also, if anyone was wondering, the circular file means the trash can.  
> I also just wanted to say thank you to all the people who have left me such wonderful comments as well as kudos. That means a lot to me and I really appreciate it. It really keeps me motivated to know that people are enjoying this.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji deals with his feelings for Zenyatta and they gain some help from a new friend.

Genji’s first date consisted of a hastily eaten dinner at the local ramen shop, several hours spent contemplating the futility of crane games as he tried to win his date an enormous teddy bear, and an awkward first kiss that had rendered him sweaty and shaking with anxiety long after he had run off to bed. When he asked his father the next morning, as he sipped his tea at a leisurely pace, if things became any easier he had answered “Yes, and no”. Genji was confused, but as time went on he began to understand his father’s ambiguous answer. 

 

The first girls he had dated were easy to spend time with. A night at the movies, a bouquet of flowers, a simple kiss in the dark. As time went on, though, the women who passed into his circle became more demanding. They wanted grand shows of his affection, lavish gifts, expensive dinners, long stretches of love making that left him weak in the knees and too exhausted to move. 

 

Hanzo at the time had admonished him on several occasions, and each time Genji had scoffed. “Why should I take advice from you? Have you ever been on a date?”, he asked incredulously of him one night. Hanzo had laughed darkly, ruffled his hair, and had merely said “More than you know”, before walking off down the hallway leaving him frozen in place, completely stunned. It wasn’t so much that he doubted the validity of Hanzo’s claims, it was more that he had a hard time imagining Hanzo dating anyone. 

 

Even in his teenage years Hanzo was stoic, introverted, and slightly taciturn. But retained enough of a polite demeanor to endear him to a good number of the girls at school. He had caught Hanzo on several occasions being confessed to, the girl usually clutching her bag or some ill-fated love letter with dainty and trembling fingers. If Hanzo did date any of the girls from school he had kept it a well-guarded secret. As far as he was concerned he essentially dated anyone who asked him, even if the relationship didn’t last long. Hanzo accused him of being needy, even desperate. He had waved him off, vehemently stated that he was wrong. But if he was being honest with himself, and in those days he so rarely was, it was because he was severely lonely. 

 

In those years after his mother’s death, he had been left to his own devices. His father had thrown himself so deeply into his work that he became a stranger in their house. He wandered the hallways and rooms in a stupor, his mind continually working through deals and negotiating the prospect of new business partners. Hanzo too had seemingly disappeared along with him. Which left him to bear the brunt of his grief alone. Hanzo, perhaps sensing his perpetual desolation, had insisted he join them in their father’s study on a few occasions. He had declined, with a lack of grace befitting someone who had been forced into a pained solitude for the past few weeks and had trudged off sullenly to the arcade. 

 

He frequented the arcade so regularly, and with so much fervor, that a small group of kids his age took notice of him. Amongst them was his first real crush, a girl by the name of Aiko. A girl with a laugh that rattled his bones, and a penchant for cold beer and Street Fighter. They had dated for a time, but he always found his eyes wandering. She had caught him one evening, observing the soft curve of another girl’s smile, had thrown down the Pachimari she had won for him, and disappeared into the night. He had run off to find her only to be stopped by the same girl he had been admiring. Though even with her, his eyes began to wander again. This time turning to a girl with long shining hair and sharp piercing eyes behind stylish glasses. 

 

Things had continued in that way for many years. One woman never seemed to be enough. He always found his gaze roaming to new people, new territories yet to be discovered, the untouched skin of a stranger. Only now did he realize that he was trying to sate his despair with the never ending attention of his lovers. Trying to stave off his loneliness and his need for understanding in the embrace of women he cared for but couldn’t commit to. In the overly perfumed beds of women who only loved his money. In the company of people who didn’t see anything more than a shallow playboy. Someone who was only supplying them with enough entertainment and booze for the night until they grew sick and tired, and left him to pick himself off the floor of the bar and drag himself home. He would fall into bed, weary with unfulfilled promises of love and beaten down by his own anxiety. Exhausted by the steady flow of people who passed in and out of his circle. 

 

He was steadily growing numb to it. He could feel what used to be a burning furnace of passion and desire, slowly burn out to a dim and sputtering flame of resignation. He had resigned himself to the notion that he could not find anyone to stoke the dying coals of his heart. That there was no one worth pursuing. After his accident and the subsequent surgery he thought that aspect of his life was lost to him, just another thing that had been stolen away. But he had learned very quickly that attraction for him, was just as strong as it had been when he was younger. That his new body, strange as it was, could still feel the heady sting of arousal. The act of love was not out of the question, but he had to wonder who would be willing to engage with someone who was more machine than man. He didn’t know, and for a time he didn’t care. Now, though, his interest had been peaked. In the weeks that followed, as Genji waited for the new recruit’s arrival to the monastery, he occupied himself with his daily chores and his fledgling connections with the other monks. He was happy to have other people to talk to, it was a good distraction from his own unwieldy thoughts and his unnervingly strong attraction to Zenyatta. 

 

It had begun slowly. Their days in the monastery easily gave way to leisure time and long uninterrupted conversations. It was at those moments that his infatuation bloomed into a deep attraction that he couldn’t shake off. He started to learn new things about the monk, certain quirks of his character. How he owned a small collection of potted plants that he tended to, that he knew much more about movies than Genji suspected. “I’m a monk, not a hermit. Of course, I’ve seen Star Wars”, Zenyatta said with a chuckle. He learned that the monk was well read, having taken in a great deal of fantasy novels. They found even more commonality there. He had always enjoyed those epic adventures; brazen acts of heroism, magic, the prospect of new lands and alternate realities. Zenyatta knew about music, he professed to loving a wide variety of genres, even to Genji’s dismay, country. “Well, I know someone you’ll get along easily with”, he had joked. Zenyatta told him stories of their time wandering through Nepal. His first experience with snow, how a simple snow ball fight had quickly escalated into an all-out war that had left him and several others trying to dislodge snow from their circuitry. Genji relayed a similar story of how he and Hanzo’s desire to build a snowman had grown into a full-blown competition between them. Which resulted in them building more intricate and extravagant snowmen that circled around the compound, and blocked doors and encroached on windows. “My father opened the door and walked right into one”, he said with a laugh. 

 

Zenyatta laughed along with him, thankfully not pressing about Hanzo’s reaction to the situation. Genji told him about his likes, how he had flooded his book shelf with manga, how his first concert had ended up with him swept up into a mosh pit. They spent long hours like that. Uncovering the different avenues of each other’s personalities; the quirks, the shared interests between them, the unspoken fears, the habits. It reminded Genji of those nights spent talking with McCree, although this was far better. For the first time in what felt like years Genji was completely at ease, comfortable, content, his memories sequestered away. Zenyatta sat close by, their hands just barely touching. All it would take is for a brief motion, a flick of his fingers and he would be holding the monk’s hand. It’s not as if that were new, he had held his hand before, but that was at a moment of sorrow, a comforting gesture. Now it would just be for the pleasure of it. The gentle sensation, the coolness of his palm, the length of his fingers intertwined with his own. He realized that was a clear indication that he was looking for something more than just friendly conversation. 

 

He spent a long time examining his desires. Wondering when it had begun, baffled by the intensity of his attraction. At first hesitant to make a move but then ultimately giving in, he tried to get close to the monk under any circumstances, under any pretext he could devise. He brushed past him as they swept the courtyard, he leaned close to him reveling in the mollifying sound of his internal hardware, let his hand linger longer than necessary on his shoulder. On one occasion Zenyatta had dropped his sash while he was dressing and he had darted forward to pick it up. “Allow me”, he said, his tone far more breathy than it needed to be, as he brought the sash gently around his slim waist and fumbled to tie it. Suddenly stunned with desire and struck with how close the monk was. Zenyatta chuckled “If you are having trouble I believe I can take it from here Genji.” He didn’t say anything as he finished the task, sorely tempted to lean forward and kiss him and quickly fled from the room. 

 

There were even more near misses like that. A brush of their fingers, Genji’s hand on his hip to pull him away from a pack of falling snow. Things eventually came to a head when Genji stumbled and Zenyatta caught him by the waist, his hand on the small of his back, their chests touching. Zenyatta released him slowly with a simple “Be mindful of your steps.” Genji lost all semblance of control. He flirted with him in sly seductive tones, he spent increasingly more time in the monk’s room, he touched him whenever he could. If Zenyatta was moved by any of his gestures he didn’t make it obvious. In fact, he proceeded just as things always had. The only one who seemed to notice his suffering was Mondatta. Who blithely shook his head as Genji failed to elicit a romantic response, and Zenyatta strode away from his side to speak with one of his students. Genji looked at him “What?”, he asked. Mondatta shook his head in disappointment “I pity this losing battle you are fighting”, he said.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“I believe it would be best to be straight forward and tell my brother how you feel.”

 

Genji wasn’t surprised “Is it that obvious?”, he asked sullenly.

 

Mondatta chuckled “Is the sky blue?”

 

“Alright, so I’m a bit rusty. You’ve made your point. This is just new for me, I’ve never been so-”

 

“Smitten?”

 

“Yes, I guess you could put it that way.”

 

“Well, it is normal to feel reluctance in confessing your feelings to someone. But I believe in this case it is your best option. My brother can be a bit oblivious at times.”

 

“Is that what we’re going to call it? I just thought he wasn’t interested.”

 

“You will never know if you don’t ask.”

 

“Yeah, I know.”

 

“Then why the hesitation?”

 

Genji thought about it, he had been thinking about it for the past few weeks now. When he was younger if there was someone he desired he was relentless in his pursuit, obvious in his tactics, gentle in his coercion. The only thing that had stopped him was outright refusal. But here there were no refusals, no obstacles at all, so then why was he hesitating? He knew what he wanted. So then why couldn’t he bring himself to just tell Zenyatta how he felt? He mulled it over and had come to the conclusion that despite everything he was still too insecure. He wanted to kiss Zenyatta without worrying about the appearance of his face. He wanted to have the monk’s hands on him and not brood over the fact that he was touching metal and not skin. But to do that he would have to overcome the same struggles that had been plaguing him for years. The same ones that led him here in the first place. He was momentarily snapped out of his thoughts as he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

 

“There is no need to answer me now”, Mondatta said, his tone oddly soothing. “I suggest you meditate on what your next course of action should be”, and with that he walked off, his hands clasped behind his back, his path crossing with a small group of monks nearby. Which left Genji to his thoughts. Obviously, Zenyatta didn’t find his physique strange. But he himself, even after all this time, still had issues with it. He didn’t think about it during battle, he was a perfect weapon, the ideal warrior. But when it came to romance how would his vents, the steel, the inability to show his true face equate into a passionate experience? Ultimately, he had to suspect that had been the same thing that caused his would be affair with McCree to fall through. 

 

They had tried their hand at physical intimacy for a short time. Born out of the same pains of loneliness, a shared need for comfort, and a deep mutual affection. What had started out as merely nightly conversations had coalesced into short, but passionate interludes. It began when McCree hobbled into the darkness of his room. He was leaning heavily on the gunslinger for support, his leg slightly injured. McCree had helped him onto his bed and had pulled away, but not before Genji removed his faceplate and kissed him on the cheek.

 

“What was that?”, McCree asked, sounding only mildly surprised.

 

“A thank you”, Genji replied simply. 

 

“Not a very big thank you, seeing as I dragged you all the way back to your room”, McCree said teasingly. 

 

Genji had rolled his eyes before taking McCree’s face in his hands and kissing him on the lips. Inhaling that same pungent scent of cigarillo smoke that followed the gunslinger like a haze. They continued like that for weeks. McCree coming by to talk, and then eventually their conversation would give way to feverish kisses that left him breathless and weak in the knees. At the time, Genji had regretted not going further with the cowboy. But all he could ever do, all he was ever comfortable with doing, was kissing him coupled with a few brief touches in the dark. Never allowing the gunslinger’s hands to stray too far. He had cut it off after a few weeks, stating that they shouldn’t complicate their friendship with romantic entanglements. McCree had looked sad but had ultimately agreed, stating that their friendship meant a lot to him. He was glad for it but upset that he couldn’t handle more than those chaste touches, the simple kisses in the shadows of his room. He didn’t want things to be that way with Zenyatta. He wanted to share all that he could with him and that meant trying to overcome the obstacle of his insecurities. He loped around the grounds for the rest of the day, ruminating on the curse and the miracle of his body. He would have thought about it for the rest of the night if Zenyatta didn’t come in with some interesting news. 

 

“You’re going to Japan?”, Genji asked. 

 

“Just for a few weeks. There is a monastery there that has showed an interest in our teachings and has requested a meeting”, he said, taking his place on the mat next to him.

 

Japan. It had been so long since he had been back home. He felt a fleeting stab of sadness and nostalgia pour over him at the thought of it. 

 

“I thought you might want to accompany me?”, Zenyatta asked. 

 

“What?” 

 

“I understand if you do not. I realize it may be hard for you to return there. But I would certainly value your company on this trip.” 

 

He blushed, humbled by his words “Please tell me we’d be taking a plane this time?”, he said, half-heartedly teasing him. Already thinking of the long trek they had made just to get here. 

 

Zenyatta chuckled “Of course unless you wished for us to swim to Japan.” 

 

Genji laughed “Even if I did it wouldn’t work. I’m not a very good swimmer, besides wouldn’t you sink?” 

 

“I‘m not sure, I have never tried my hand at it.” 

 

Genji chuckled again. He thought back to his village, his home, the last time he was there, the clan elder’s blood staining the edge of his blade. “It will be nice to return home”, he said softly “I would like to replace some of those memories with better ones.” 

 

Zenyatta nodded knowingly “Have you been feeling any better lately?”, he asked. 

 

“I don’t know”, he trailed off thinking about the past few weeks. He hasn’t had time to think of his past. His mind had been too preoccupied with his future, a potential future with Zenyatta. Consumed with the idea of waking up to that same soft laughter. Obsessed with the thought of cool hands smoothing over the ridges and angles of his body. “I’ve been alright”, he said finally with a sigh, recoiling from those enticing ideas.

 

“But?” 

 

“I’m not sure”, he answered, flexing his fingers, still marveling at the sensation even after all this time. “I’ve been trying to accept some things. Trying to accept this body”, he elaborated. 

 

“That’s wonderful”, Zenyatta exclaimed “I’m happy for you Genji”, he said, putting his hand on his shoulder. Genji felt his face burn. Zenyatta was just about to slip away again when he brought his hand down from his shoulder and held onto it. Zenyatta made no move to free himself from his grip, he cradled the monk’s hand in his own, his hold feverish and trembling around his fingers. 

 

“Could you stay a bit longer?”, he asked. He knew his voice was shaking and he couldn’t stop it, he didn’t care. “I wanted you to help me talk through some of this”, he added with a cough. 

 

“Of course”, Zenyatta said smoothly “What do you wish to talk about?” 

 

Genji cleared his throat “Sorry, this is strange for me.” 

 

“That’s alright”, Zenyatta said encouragingly “Tell me what’s on your mind.” 

 

Genji sighed. “I’m still trying to accept myself. That this is how I am now, that this is how things are going to be. When I was younger everyone made a big deal about my looks. ‘The two young lords of the Shimada clan, aren’t they so handsome?’ some of the women would say. I was known for only three things; my looks, my money, and my lifestyle. That night in the castle I lost all 3. I easily got over the loss of my money, and I didn’t care for that lifestyle anymore. But to have my body look this way...it was hard. It still is. Because it’s something that stares me in the face every day. Because despite the fact that I’m a man no one would know, they only see this.” 

 

“Is that so bad?” 

 

“What?” 

 

“For many people, sight is their first line of information and for good or ill they make assumptions based on that. It matters very little what people see. You are a good man with a keen and beautiful spirit.” 

 

Genji was touched by his words, his eyes threatening to water with the force of that feeling. “I didn’t know you were a smooth talker”, he said, trying to assuage the feeling from coloring his tone.

 

“Say what you want, but what I say is the truth. We are so much more than just these physical bodies”, Zenyatta said gesturing to the smooth angles of his arms, the pistons, and circuitry of his torso. “What matters is if you can clearly see yourself for what you are. That you are content with yourself.” 

 

“I haven’t been for a while”, Genji said with a tired sigh. 

 

“I know”, Zenyatta said soothingly “Lay bare all of your feelings, then and now.” 

 

Genji gently held onto Zenyatta’s hand, a grounding force as he went through the different memories, the feelings. He remembered the rehabilitation process, long and grueling. Learning to walk again, learning to feel again. He spent long hours alone, flexing his fingers, his toes, moving his arms, rotating his wrists before he felt even the slightest sensation, a brief tingle amongst the numbness. The threat of acquiring injuries that he couldn’t feel. Pushing himself to the very limits of his endurance because he didn’t think anything of it because he couldn’t feel the pain. Angela chiding him from his bedside that he needed to be more careful and him asking grimly “What was the point?”

 

He hadn’t seen any point in taking care of himself then. He didn’t for a long time. Why should he? This wasn’t even his own body anymore. It was merely steel, circuitry, rods, synapses, and torn muscle that had all been fused into the amalgamation that now made up his form. At one point, after a great deal of pressing, he had Angela recount to him the full extent of his injuries. The severed ligaments, the broken bones, the shredded muscles, the ample scar tissue. He had halted her halfway through, feeling sick. No wonder Reyes had told him he wouldn’t let him see what was happening. 

 

He wallowed in misery and self-loathing for a long time. He only began to take greater care in battle when he continually saw Angela’s lips drawn into a tight frown, her eyes full of worry. Only when he saw McCree’s look of concern as he sat by his bed trying to keep him company on several occasions, smoking more than usual. He no longer pushed himself beyond his limits, but even so, that did nothing to deter the feeling of loathing that he felt every time he looked in the mirror. He began to avoid them, refused to have his picture taken and tried to keep his thoughts on other things. But everything seemed to remind him of it. The fact that he didn’t fit in anywhere, not a man, not a machine. He spent many nights in his bunk cold and lonely, thinking back to the brighter days of his youth. Lamenting his mother, his father, even missing Hanzo at times. Cursing and wishing for his company all in the same tired shuddering breath. His body was both his boon and his bain. He wanted nothing more to wake up one morning and find himself whole again, to feel flesh under his fingers instead of cool steel. But he knew he was merely kidding himself. Things could never go back to how they used to be. 

 

But he was beginning to slowly realize that perhaps that was fine. Things could never go back to the way they used to be. But did the rest of his life have to be spent feeling sorry for himself? Did he constantly have to be wrapped up in a thick swath of self-hatred? 

 

He massaged along the length of Zenyatta’s hand, caressed his knuckles. Zenyatta only loosed a light sigh in response, he spoke slowly trying to make sense of things. “I’ve been hating what I was for a long time. I was only happy to be alive because it meant I could get revenge on those who did this to me but now...things have changed. I used to hate myself for making that deal with Overwatch, but now I’m beginning to think it wasn’t that bad. If I hadn’t made that deal I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have seen all the things we did throughout our journey. I wouldn’t have met you. I haven’t accepted everything yet, but at the very least I’m beginning to see this new form as something more than just a curse.” 

 

“That’s wonderful”, Zenyatta said warmly. “It will take time to accept all that you’ve detailed to me, but you will in time.” 

 

“I wish I could speed up the process.” 

 

“Don’t strain yourself Genji. As long as you reach your goal the length of the journey doesn’t matter.”

 

“I know, but it’s been so long now.” 

 

“As I said you’ve been through much. I’m just glad and humbled that you decided to share this with me”, Zenyatta said softly. 

 

Genji looked down to the union of their hands. He sighed contemplating confessing now, laying bare his suffering. How every word, every laugh, every gentle touch of his fingers set him ablaze with desire. “The timing isn’t right”, he thought. His mind turning to the impending trip back home, just the two of them traveling again, a chance to grow closer, a tender confession under the cherry blossoms. He shook his head wondering when he had grown so sappy, the cherry blossoms weren’t even in bloom this late. Zenyatta stayed with him for a few more hours afterward, they spoke of lighter affairs. Genji detailed a long list of places they should try to visit, recounting vibrant memories of his homeland, eager to drown out the bad memories with Zenyatta by his side.

 

Symmetra arrived by air transport 3 days later. Clad in a heavy military style coat, her sleek black hair pulled into a tight braid that spanned the length of her back. She strode off the transport with the casual grace of someone who hadn’t just spent the last few hours in the air. Genji met her at the monastery’s front steps after having made doubly sure that Mondatta was preoccupied in his room. 

 

“Genji Shimada, I presume”, she said briskly. 

 

“Yes.”

 

“I am Symmetra. Agent McCree informed me that you have need of my expertise.” 

 

“Yes, I need you to create a defense matrix around the monastery, but discreetly.” 

 

“Of course, my turrets would not be effective if they were so easily detected”, she said, as he led her through the monastery grounds and inside the first chamber. 

 

“Right, but I mean we can’t let the Shambali leader know that you’re here.” 

 

“You’ve brought me here without his knowledge?” 

 

“I had to. He doesn’t believe in having any defenses in place, even though there was a recent threat from Talon.” 

 

Symmetra frowned “A regrettable decision on his part. We move quickly then”, she said. 

 

Genji led her throughout the monastery, she deployed turrets over a large span of the building, creating potential choke points, hiding them behind rafters and in secluded areas. She spoke little as she worked to outfit every potential point with the small shining turrets. He watched the slow graceful movement of her hands shaping the light, her fingers nimbly working as if she were manipulating simple thread to construct a cat's cradle. It was mesmerizing to watch.

 

“I have modified them slightly. They will only shoot if they detect gunfire or the heat signature of the pulse rifles Talon had been using as of late.” 

 

“I didn’t know that was possible.” 

 

“Anything is possible with the proper tools”, she stated, as she brought her fingers around a pulsing blue sphere of light, pinched it with her forefinger and thumb, and it flew to the ceiling transforming into a turret. Genji whistled, he had heard rumors of Vishkar, of their hard light constructs able to build roads and form buildings. But, it was something else entirely to see it firsthand. Symmetra completed her work a good hour later, there was a lot of ground to cover and Genji learned quickly that she believed in being thorough. As he had watched her work he had lapsed into thinking about the other night. He was eager to leave now, thinking only of his chance to confess to the monk. He crafted multiple scenarios in his mind, all of them equally romantic. A far cry from the rushed declarations of his youth. Which had always culminated in a few dates punctuated by more time spent in bed than they did talking. He didn’t want things to be that way with Zenyatta. He wanted this to be special he thought fervently, confused and alarmed by the depth of his feelings. He was torn from his reverie as he saw Zenyatta making his way up the pathway towards them, the angles of his body gleaming in the afternoon sun. 

 

“Ah, you must be the agent Genji told me about”, he said inclining his head to Symmetra “Welcome to the Shambali monastery, I am Zenyatta. It’s a pleasure to meet you”, he said, bowing deeply at the waist. 

 

“Likewise”, she said with a faint smile on her lips “I am Symmetra”, she said inclining her head. “My work is now complete. As I told Genji, they are programmed only to fire should they detect the heat signature of Talon’s pulse rifles or gunfire.” 

 

“Wonderful”, exclaimed Zenyatta “We cannot thank you enough for your help. Please, allow me to at least serve you with a cup of tea before your departure.”

 

“That would be most appreciated. Thank you.” 

 

Zenyatta led them down a narrow corridor. Genji walked alongside him “Zenyatta, don’t you think we should be trying to get her out of here sooner? What if Mondatta finds out she’s here?” 

 

“He will not” 

 

“How can you be so sure?”, and then a knowing pause “What did you do?” 

 

“I did nothing. It is more a question of what the snow will do.”

 

“Zenyatta.” 

 

“There is currently a small group of snowmen blocking his door. If I’m correct in my estimate, they should be melting in the next few hours.” 

 

Genji gave a wicked smile behind his helm “You sly monk”, he said his tone fond. 

 

“I had inspiration”, Zenyatta replied smoothly as he led them into a small utilitarian kitchen. 

 

“You have a kitchen?”, Genji asked, “But none of you eat.” 

 

“True, but it is for the benefit of our guests who do”, Zenyatta said amicably, gesturing for them both to take a seat on the cushions by a low-sitting table while he brewed the tea. 

 

“I can help you with that”, Genji insisted, coming up next to him and began rifling through the cabinets for a teapot. 

 

Symmetra gazed at the cushions before pulling a disc of azure light from her palm. She brought her thumb and ring finger together and then apart, her wrist rotating, her motions forming a stool with a plush white cushion. “Amazing”, Zenyatta said, thoroughly enthused. 

 

“A chair is not so difficult to create. Now something as beautiful as this”, she said gesturing to their surroundings “That’s true artistry.” 

 

“How long would something like this take?”, Zenyatta asked, as Genji finally procured a ceramic teapot and handed it to him. 

 

“For some architechs 3-5 hours, but for me at least 1.” 

 

“Ah, you have quite the talent then. We were lucky to have someone as skilled as yourself working with us”, he said, setting down a small teacup on the counter as Genji attended to heating the water. 

 

“Thank you”, she said with a brief smile as she reached within the confines of her coat for her phone. “Ah, D.Va has just informed me that they should be arriving in the next hour.” 

 

“Ah, good. Plenty of time”, Zenyatta said, as he measured the tea and preheated the cup. A few minutes later he passed the tea to her, she accepted it with a gracious nod and a pleasant “Thank you”, before taking a sip, tentative then sure. “Excellent”, she said, “It’s been too long since I’ve had a good cup of green tea.” 

 

“I’m glad I chose something to your liking”, Zenyatta answered, bowing his head. 

 

“How do you know how to brew tea?”, Genji asked.

 

“Just because I cannot partake in it, doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the act of preparing it”, he said, setting the teapot aside. Genji smiled, he seemed to be learning new things about him all the time. 

 

“Thank you again for coming all the way out here Symmetra”, Genji said. 

 

“It was no trouble, it was on my way.” 

 

“Are you heading back to the watchpoint?” 

 

“Yes, I was just finishing up some work in India. Talon has become rather bold lately”, she said, her eyebrows furrowed in thought.

 

“Why do you say that?” 

 

“Talon has been systematically attacking cities, ones where the relations between humans and omnics are already strained. These attacks already have everyone on edge. But it is exacerbated by the fact that recently they have been planting omnics in the midst of these places to further incite fear and unrest, and even aid them in their attacks. It seems they are planning an even bigger strike, as they recently stole a good number of decommissioned Vishkar omnics. That is why I was in India. My old colleagues wanted me to help cover up their careless mistakes”, she said with a scowl. “Considering what happened here and what is happening elsewhere, it’s obvious that they are trying to incite more hatred against omnics, that they are planning something more substantial. What they hope to gain from this, and what they plan to do with those decommissioned omnics, I’m not sure.”

 

“This is serious news”, Zenyatta said solemnly. 

 

“What about Japan?” Genji asked, “Should we still be leaving when all of this is going on?” 

 

“I’m not sure”, Zenyatta replied, stroking his chin in thought. Genji braced himself against the counter. He felt that same nagging sense of anxiety overtake him, he hadn’t felt it so intensely in weeks. The thoughts of tender confessions amidst the cherry blossoms replaced by the crimson light of a Bastion unit and the deafening sound of gunfire. 

 

“My apologies”, she said suddenly “I did not mean for my news to cause you such anxiety, but I felt it was important that you know.” 

 

“No. Thank you for telling us”, Zenyatta said, “You’ve been a great help.” 

 

She nodded her head as she pulled a soft turquoise bud from her palm. It bloomed in her hand, the petals resembling that of a lotus flower. She gently twisted it at the top with a swift motion of her fingers, the bloom spiraled until it resembled a pear shaped dome. She pulled another one, creating the same motion, placing them on the table next to her half-finished tea. “Photon shields for your trip”, she said with a wave of her hand “Hopefully, though, you will have no use for them”, she said, her attention once again returning to her cup. Genji looked at the shield, and he felt those same pains of anxiety threatening to twist his guts. 

 

Despite everything, Symmetra didn’t leave them in bad spirits. On the contrary, she made for good conversation. Her and Zenyatta, he observed, seemed to quickly take to each other. She showed him various constructs with a flick of her wrists and the rhythmic motion of her fingers. She created tiny shining bells that chimed, and miniature castles with spires and shining drawbridges. Zenyatta praised her skills. She seemed intrigued by his talk of the Iris, and he seemed enraptured with her speech about bending reality. Genji let them talk, watching them happily, his mind on other things. She left promptly within the next hour just as she had said, her teacup drained and the afternoon light beginning to fade. 

 

“It was nice to meet you both”, she said, inclining her head.

 

“Peace be upon you”, Zenyatta said warmly. 

 

She nodded to them both, a smile ghosting her lips, and made her way towards the transport. A young woman wearing a large pink coat, with a rabbit pin on the lapel met her as the door opened. “Hurry on Satya, it’s freezing out here! How are you only wearing that coat? I need like 3 more”, she said, her arms crossed over her chest, shivering with the cold. “It has not been so bad”, Symmetra answered, with a slight chuckle. She gave them a brief nod, and a wave before boarding the transport. They flew off a few moments later, leaving Genji and Zenyatta watching them from the monastery steps. Genji looked to Zenyatta, who was still watching the transport make its steady course through the sky until it became only a small glinting dot amidst the clouds. 

 

“What do you think about what she said?”, Genji asked finally. 

 

Zenyatta looked thoughtful for a moment “There will always be threats”, he answered. 

 

“Yes, but these are very specific threats. Is it really smart to be traveling when all of this is happening? Is it really important?” 

 

“It is perhaps even more important now, with humans and omnics on edge due to these attacks. People need to know that there are still those of us who are trying to unite us, not tear us apart. Perhaps it can be an inspiration for others to do the same.” 

 

“I’m still not sure about this.” 

 

“To be fearful of every possible danger, doesn’t leave much room for living.”

 

“One of your proverbs?” 

 

“Yes, and in this case a very appropriate one.”

 

“Even when there is a potential threat?” 

 

“Just as we made sure there were defenses in place for the monastery, we have made the same precautions for ourselves”, he said holding up the photon shield Symmetra had gifted them. “At the first sign of danger I trust you to usher us to safety”, he said. 

 

“So you’re saying I am worrying for nothing?” 

 

“Your concern is not misplaced Genji, but there always have been threats and there will continue to be. If we were overly concerned with such things we would not be here today.” 

 

Genji let the weight of those words sink in. The risks of leaving everything behind to escape into a world that hated you, abandoning the fear of the unknown with the knowledge that to stay would mean death, going against the very nature of your being. He gave a sigh of resignation. “You called Mondatta stubborn, but you’re just as bad”, he said, defeated. Zenyatta chuckled lightly, an attempt to lighten the mood. “I never said I wasn’t”, he replied. Zenyatta turned to walk back inside, Genji following closely behind him, listening to the hushed tones of the monks reciting their mantras behind stone walls, and his steps slowed by a pervasive sense of unease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost I would like to say thank you again to everyone who has commented and left kudos, it means so much to me and you're all awesome!  
> This chapter is beginning to put some things in motion, mainly Genji's feelings for Zenyatta. By the next chapter, we should definitely be seeing some more romance. As I said in the previous notes, I'm playing fast and loose with the timeline, among other things. Also for anyone wondering when Mondatta is going to find out about those turrets, it's coming, trust me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji attempts to come to terms with his past and make his move as he and Zenyatta arrive in Japan.

The last time Genji flew it was on a cramped cargo plane. He had wedged himself into the back amongst the crates and boxes and had tried to preoccupy himself with the idea that he was headed for something better. But, as the flight dragged on and his short-lived optimism waned he realized perhaps his impulsiveness had truly led him astray. He grew increasingly bereft as he looked out over the endless expanse of water below and began to miss the jingle of McCree’s spurs, the boom of Reinhardt’s laugh, and the gentle white noise of the watchpoint. Was he making the right choice by leaving? Was it worth it? Where was he even going? He didn’t know the answer to any of the fervent questions his mind posed. He only knew that he couldn’t stay there, that he was tired of living life like a soldier; regimented and stiff, and that although he would miss McCree and the others, it wasn’t home and it never could be. 

 

The cargo ship had dropped him in India, the sweltering heat and the mass of people a far cry from the cool sea breeze and perpetual isolation of the watchpoint. That had been a long flight, 9 hours spent in silence with only his thoughts for company. Now, though, things were different. He wasn’t cramped in the back of a cargo plane anxious and despondent, he was sitting on a large plane in an economy class cabin. There was no uncertainty, no questions to be answered, he knew where he was going and his reasons for doing so. Best of all, he wasn’t alone. He looked over to Zenyatta, slightly glad for the fact that he still had his visor and faceplate on so the monk wouldn’t see how beguiled he was with him. 

 

Making the trek back down the mountain had been hard. Nights spent together in often cramped and secluded guest houses gave way to inappropriate thoughts. There were times when he had thought about creeping into Zenyatta’s bed and falling asleep to the sound of his orbs chiming and nuzzling next to the warmth of his chest. But Genji knew better and he had managed to keep his urges from overriding his better judgment. But every interaction since they left the monastery felt like a lesson in self-restraint, and every time Zenyatta woke and dressed in the same thin weathered robes he would have to flee the room. Every slow laborious motion and the sight of his gleaming physique stirring those same feelings he thought had eluded him long ago. 

 

Genji wondered at times if Zenyatta was as oblivious as his brother had claimed him to be. There were moments where Genji suspected he was flirting with him in that same teasing tone, touches that were feather light and drove him mad, at several points he had even caught the monk staring as he stretched his limbs; more out of habit than necessity. He had to wonder if the gentle sigh Zenyatta gave as he had massaged the length of his hand all those nights ago belied something more, he certainly hoped that it did. 

 

The flight to Japan was not nearly as long as his hasty departure from Gibraltar, nor as lonely. Zenyatta and he spoke softly to each other for most of the flight, Genji asked about the monastery they were supposed to be going to, what he was looking forward to seeing. Zenyatta had answered all questions happily, confessing that he was glad that they were able to have some time together, just the two of them, uninterrupted. Genji briefly considered confessing right then and there, declaring to the whole plane that this man was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and then kissing him until there were more than just breathy sighs erupting from his mouth. But he tamped those feelings down, he had a plan in place, one that he had spent the better half of a week coming up with. When he had asked Zenyatta the course of their journey he said they would ultimately end up at a rural Buddhist monastery, but they would be making a quick trip through Hanamura. 

 

Genji had felt shock and a strange sense of dreadful nostalgia overtake him at the name of his old stomping grounds. Zenyatta had pressed that they could bypass his hometown and go another route, but Genji had assured him that he would be fine. “As long as you’re with me I’ll be fine”, he had said warmly, still trying to figure out the exact moment he had become such a hopeless romantic. Zenyatta hadn’t said anything for a moment, he had merely put his hand in Genji’s, squeezed it once, uttered a quiet “Thank you”, and had left shortly after to meditate. That had left Genji to think about returning home. When Zenyatta had told him about the trip to Japan he hadn’t anticipated going back to Hanamura. To say it was completely out of his consciousness would be a lie, he would never truly escape that place. The city where he had gained and lost so much. He had to wonder if he could still endure it if he could walk back on familiar soil when in his nightmares it was so often saturated with his blood. If the ghosts of the past who had shambled through the halls of his home would find their way out into the lambent light of midday and manage to entrap him. He didn’t want to think about it long. “Things are different now”, he thought. Nothing bad was going to happen, he was going to show Zenyatta a good time, and he was going tell him how he felt. He repeated it with so much fervor and hushed ferocity that when they boarded the plane in Kathmandu 5 hours ago, he was sure it was the notion of confessing that had his guts twisting with anxiety. 

 

Zenyatta still seemed concerned about him, though. He could tell in the lilt of his voice and the gentle tilt of his head “I’m fine”, he said, his tone resolute “Don’t worry about me.” 

 

“I am not.” 

 

“Is that why you’ve asked me every hour, on the hour if I’m alright?” 

 

“It has not been every hour.” 

 

“Ok, every 2 hours then.” 

 

“Pardon my persistence Genji, I am just a bit concerned about you. I have to wonder if it’s wise for you to be returning back home so soon, after everything you’ve told me.” 

 

Genji felt a fleeting stab of guilt, he had yet to tell Zenyatta the entire story of what happened that night. “I will”, he told himself “But now isn’t the time.” He casually placed his arm around the monk’s shoulders delighting in how Zenyatta leaned into the embrace “I’ve been there recently”, he said, trying to put his fears to rest. 

 

“Yes, on a mission to disassemble the clan”, Zenyatta said pointedly “So I believe you can understand my concern. You did not leave there on the best of terms.”

 

“That’s why I want to go back”, he said “I don’t want all the memories I have to be tainted with everything that’s happened the past few years. Also-”, his voice dropping an octave lower “I want to make some memories with you”, he said, emboldened by having the monk so close. 

 

Zenyatta shook his head in dismay “And you called me a smooth talker, compared to you I’m merely a novice”, he said, his tone edged with mirth.

 

Genji chuckled “I don’t know about that. I’d say you’re a pretty quick study.”

 

“Hm, I feel that I still have much to learn. Perhaps you’d be willing to mentor me since you have quite the talent for it”, he said teasingly. Genji inwardly groaned, it was going to be a long couple of days before they reached Hanamura. 

 

They landed in Tokyo not long after that exchange. The city had gone relatively untouched by the war, it’s tall buildings gleaming like newly polished jewels in the fading sunlight, the streets overrun with people. Despite the insistent fits of wanderlust in his youth it had been a long time since Genji had been there. One of the last times he had traversed the crowded streets of that shining metropolis, had been during a trip to celebrate Hanzo’s 13th birthday, and they had spent 5 days in a flurry of motion and sightseeing. He remembered pulling Hanzo to every possible ride at Disneyland, how they ended up at the Tsukiji fish market and their father bought the largest salmon he had ever seen. How their mother dragged them all to Harajuku and bought him a stack of manga so tall he thought he would never finish reading all of it. How she had bought their father and Hanzo a matching pair of brightly colored plaid jackets and had gleefully taken their picture, both of them giving the camera identical scowls. 

 

He laughed at the memory, letting the amusement it brought with it quickly fade as they made their way through the crowded streets to their hotel. Genji was the first to comment that the hotel, a large well-lit building with a lobby sporting a modern style chandelier and a front desk with a marbled top flecked with gold, was certainly different from the guest houses of their last trip. “The monastery gave me some funds for the journey”, Zenyatta replied simply, as they checked in. It was strange to be in such lavish surroundings again. He admittedly was more accustomed to it, rather than the utilitarian beauty of his own room back in Nepal, or the stark claustrophobic space he had shortly called home at the watchpoint. Genji briefly fumbled with the key before opening the door to their room. The suite was white, plush, and perhaps almost too comfortable. There was a large flat screen tv mounted on the wall opposite the beds, and the lush carpet gave way to wooden panels, that led outside to a balcony that overlooked the gleaming cityscape below. Genji laid down their minimal luggage and flopped face first on the bed, inhaling the scent of freshly washed cotton. He rolled over on his back, sighing contentedly “I see you’re enjoying yourself”, Zenyatta said, sounding amused as he sat on the bed opposite him. 

 

“Of course”, he said, sitting up “It’s good to be traveling again, and it’s even better because I have you all to myself”, he added, feeling bold. 

 

“Yes, I’m sure you’ve missed the uninterrupted hours of vexing me”, Zenyatta replied in good humor. 

 

Genji laughed “You’re right it has made these past few weeks pretty dull. I guess I’ll have to make up for lost time.” 

 

Zenyatta chuckled “Perhaps you could employ some mercy this time?” 

 

“I’m a ninja, not a saint”, Genji said “Are you sure you don’t want to look around? I know it’s getting late, but the city has a lot to offer.” 

 

“We will have some time tomorrow to do some sightseeing.” 

 

“We have time right now.” 

 

Zenyatta looked thoughtful. Genji sighed “I’m disappointed. How is it that you’re younger than me and already have so little energy?” 

 

“You’re not going to let this go are you?” 

 

“I am nothing if not persistent”, he announced proudly.

 

“I am beginning to see that. Alright where do you propose we go?”, Zenyatta asked rising to his feet. Genji thought for a moment and then inspiration struck.

 

The shops of Harajuku were still open when they arrived. They made the walk from the station and onto the streets lined with shops and a mass of people, many of them arrayed in vibrant colors and extravagant garments. With only a small amount of prodding, he was able to convince a hesitant Zenyatta to go into a high-end fashion boutique. After some browsing and some thinly veiled flirtation, he was able to get the monk to try on a navy leather jacket and a pair of ochre pants that conformed to his legs, perhaps too perfectly. It was an interesting change from the loose fitting robes of his asceticism, it evoked that same biting desire that he had been managing to keep at bay throughout the duration of their trip. It became even worse when he insisted for Zenyatta to change into a fine suit, black with a white dress shirt and a tie as blue as the lights upon his forehead. As Zenyatta turned to admire himself in the mirror Genji came forward to straighten his tie “It’s been awhile since I’ve worn a suit”, he said. 

 

“You should wear one more often, you look good in it”, Genji confessed, desperately trying to keep his hands from straying too far. 

 

“Thank you”, Zenyatta answered, “Though I doubt I could afford one as splendid as this.” 

 

Genji looked at the price tag and almost had to step back in shock “I forgot how expensive some of these boutiques can be”, he admitted, “I’m pretty sure on our budget we could buy you a nice scarf, or one-half of a pair of gloves.” 

 

Zenyatta chuckled “A nice thought, but it’s not necessary Genji. Although I would like to see how’d you look in one of these”, he said gesturing to the array of suits hanging in front of them. 

 

Genji blushed “Really?” 

 

“Of course, besides I think it is only fair. After all, you’ve had me try on at least 5 different outfits.” 

 

“And you’ve enjoyed every minute of it, admit it.” 

 

“It has not been unwelcome”, Zenyatta said finally “But I believe you owe me the same courtesy”, he said, ushering him to change. After a good deal of rifling through the rack, he found a similar black suit and predictably a green tie to accompany it. “How’s it look?”, he asked stepping out of the changing room, feeling only mildly self-conscious. 

 

“Very nice”, Zenyatta said happily as Genji unbuttoned the jacket, took it off, and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. “When I was younger I always used to wear it like this”, he explained, as he struck a pose with his jacket casually slung over his shoulder.

 

Zenyatta nodded “I believe I can see why”, he said, in a tone that Genji couldn’t easily place, but hoped was flirtatious as he took the jacket from him and hung it back on the rack. Before he changed the young woman at the counter asked to take his photo “You just look so cool”, she said thoroughly enthused “I wanted to know if I could post your pic in the style gallery on our website?”, she asked. 

 

“Ah...sure”, he said after a few moments of awkward hesitation. She thanked him as he changed and they made their way out of the store and back onto the crowded street. “That was strange”, he announced. 

 

“You think so?”, Zenyatta asked. 

 

“Not the fact that she wanted my picture”, Genji said smugly “I mean, you saw me.” 

 

Zenyatta shook his head “Cheeky”, he said fondly. 

 

“Maybe. But no, it’s the fact that I let her take the picture at all. If this had been a couple of months ago I would have told her no”, he said “And probably in the rudest way possible”, he thought with a frown.

 

“That’s excellent though”, Zenyatta said gleefully “It means that you are progressing, that the things that once burdened you so heavily are slowly being lifted from your shoulders. It’s encouraging to see how much can change in a few short months.”

 

Genji let his eyes fall on the monk beside him, he had to concede to that. 

 

They ended up in Yoyogi park just as the lamps slowly came to life. Despite the darkness, there were still people milling about; a father scooping up his son in his arms, an older couple walking side by side, a small group of young boys making their way across the expansive lawn their backpacks tossed over their shoulders. He was feeling far calmer than he had in a long time as he led Zenyatta through the park, the cherry trees devoid of blossoms, their branches stripped clean. That wouldn’t be the case when they made their way into Hanamura though. His city had developed a species that stayed in a perpetual state of bloom, an attraction that had led many young couples there for a romantic backdrop to their visits. Now he planned to use it to his advantage as well, though he had to admit he still found it strange to be returning like this. There was no mission, no revenge to be sought, just another couple amongst all the others, the monk and the ninja. 

 

“It’s beautiful here”, Zenyatta said, pulling him out of his thoughts and back into the present.

 

“I thought you would like it”, he said with a smile as they walked through a small cropping of ginkgo trees. 

 

“Are you doing alright?”, Zenyatta asked suddenly “About tomorrow I mean.” 

 

Genji’s mouth twisted into a weak frown. He could deflect the question just as he was known to do with blows and bullets, as he so often did with hard subjects, as he would probably continue to do. He had to wonder how Zenyatta managed to stay so patient with him. But instead he decided to answer him, it wouldn’t do any good to stay quiet. It seemed as they only grew closer that the innate sense Zenyatta had about the inner machinations of his mind, the strange puzzle of his body, the untamed nature of his soul only seemed to grow stronger. Until finally Genji had to wonder if they had met in some previous life and were reuniting after being so cruelly separated by time and space. “I don’t know”, he answered finally “I know I’ll be alright with you there. But it’s still going to be strange being there after all this time with no mission to fulfill. I’m not sure if I can call it home anymore.” 

 

“I understand”, Zenyatta replied, his tone edged with sadness “I know in time it will not be so difficult to return there. But if you don’t wish to stay long please let me know and we can move on.” 

 

“Alright, but not before I drag you into the arcade. I have to see how bad you are at Fighters of the Storm.” 

 

Zenyatta looked as offended as he could. “It is not wise to make assumptions Genji. It’s possible I’d be quite adept at it.” Genji laughed as Zenyatta continued to chide him for his overconfidence and Genji insisted with gusto that it wasn’t overconfidence if he was just that good. They spent the rest of the walk back to the hotel laughing as they both tried to talk up the finer points of their gaming skills, the glow of the street lights beckoning them back into the city’s gleaming embrace.

 

The trip back to Hanamura was a strange out of body experience for Genji. As soon as he saw the familiar buildings, the tops of the cherry trees, the neon lights of the shops, he felt a strange sort of delirium overtake him. It was as if the air was so thickly permeated with memories that he found it hard to breathe. Every square inch of the city had his mark on it, everything reminded him of the halcyon days of his youth. But despite everything he had expected to feel anxious, angered, upset, but in their place, he found an odd sense of calm only tainted by a hint of sadness. He found that to be bizarre. He had expected the violent shaking of his limbs, the uneven breath, all things that had plagued him before. But now as he led the monk down a tree lined street, the ground littered with the petals of the cherry trees, he felt as if those same spectral beings of the past that had twisted and churned through the confines of his mind were slowly ebbing away. Chased off by the strong glare of the sun and the prospect of a love he could truly possess. “So this is where you grew up”, Zenyatta said, looked around interestedly. 

 

“Yes”, he answered, sounding only mildly wistful “I have a story for every square inch of the city”, then he paused “Some might be a bit inappropriate.” 

 

“I will trust your discretion then”, Zenyatta said, sounding amused. 

 

He led Zenyatta down the streets based solely on memory. His feet taking them to spots he hadn’t even thought about in the past few years. He regaled him with stories of happier times, his first time attending a cherry blossom festival him laughing as Hanzo tried in vain to remove a mass of petals from his hair. His mother taking him to the arcade at the tender age of 7 and showing him how to play all the latest games, at one point, even becoming embroiled in a full-on competition with a couple of the local school girls. His father, at his behest, trying to teach him how to drive at the age of 12, and he, over confident as he was, had accidentally backed up into someone’s car. Zenyatta listened intently to his stories, asking only the occasional question, he seemed content to just let him reminisce. They passed by the arcade and he ushered Zenyatta inside “Time to see if you can live up to the challenge”, he said with a smirk as he pushed the monk through the doors.

 

Either Zenyatta was as skilled a player as he had lauded himself to be, or he had the best luck Genji had ever seen. He beat Genji 7 to 3 in Fighters of the Storm, which left him sulking until he was able to conquer that same accursed crane game from his youth and thrust the largest Pachimari he had ever seen into Zenyatta’s arms. “I doubt I”ll be able to fit him through the door of our hotel room”, he said amused, but thankful all the same. 

 

“I could always take it back if you don't want it”, Genji answered, his tone teasing. 

 

“That will not be necessary. I am fairly certain that I will manage to make him fit”, he said, his tone resolute. 

 

Genji chuckled “If you’re sure.” 

 

He led him to the local park, a large expanse of green grass stretched out before them, the lawns suffused with robust cherry trees, their petals scattering across the ground carried by a gentle breeze. This was the spot he had been fantasizing about. He had seen many romantic encounters take place here, he himself had initiated a couple, or been on the receiving end of some of them. He had been building the perfect scenario in his mind for the past few weeks, agonizing over every detail no matter how small, crafting the perfect lines that would only further endear the monk to him. Lay bare the tender feelings he had harbored, the desires he had kept secret until now. But as he led Zenyatta to a bench underneath one of the larger trees and he saw the petals dance around them in a flurry of motion, as he inhaled the fragrant scent of their blossoms and watched Zenyatta angle his head back to look at the splendor of it, all the lines he had painstakingly memorized, all the gentle gestures seemed to pale in the wake of what he felt. So instead he sighed, trying to steel himself, invoke that same dauntless courage he had mustered up to even get close to him on those first occasions. He slid next to him and placed his hand over his, still struck by how natural it felt. “Zenyatta, I need to ask you something”, he said, his voice hoarse with anxiousness. 

 

“Yes, what is it?”, Zenyatta asked, taking his hand to properly hold it in his own. He gulped “When had this become so hard?”, he thought desperately. He looked away for a moment trying to gather his thoughts, his eyes roving over the emerald fields, the trees gently swaying in the breeze. He saw a man walking his dog, two women talking animatedly to one another, a man in a dusky suit leaning against a tree only a few feet away, his lighter briefly illuminating his face. The profile of a reptile only just peeking above the white of his collar. Genji went still.

 

Reptile. Dragon. It couldn’t be- 

 

He felt the loss of cool fingers against his hand only to realize a moment later he had risen to his feet. “Genji?”, he heard that same placid voice behind him. “Zenyatta”, he thought dazedly. Why did he sound so concerned? He noticed the feel of his hilt in his hand. When had he reached for his sword? He let his grip grow lax as he looked back to the tree. The man was gone. 

 

“Genji are you alright?”, he asked, moving next to him and putting his hand on his shoulder, trying to steady him. He shook his head, whether to clear it or convince himself he was fine he wasn’t sure. What had he been thinking? It was if his body was moving of its own accord like he had completely blacked out, he hadn’t felt like that since- he fell to his knees. Zenyatta cried out his name in alarm. “I am fine. Just give me a minute”, he said tiredly. Zenyatta obliged him, he knelt down beside him, his hand on his back, smoothing out slow circles down his spine. He shuddered before leaning heavily on him, sighing. “What is wrong with me?”, he thought. He had been so caught up with what he had seen, a notion, a fleeting thought that the clan may still be clinging to life, that he had missed his chance. “Are you certain you’re alright?” Zenyatta asked, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so shaken”, he said helping him back to his feet.

 

He sighed “Yes, I don’t think I’ve ever been...I thought I saw someone, one of my clan.”

 

Zenyatta paused “That man in the suit.”

 

“You saw him too?”

 

“Briefly, but unfortunately I wasn’t able to get a good look at him. How were you able to identify him as one of the Shimada?”

 

“He had the tattoo...or at least it looked like he did.” 

 

“You can’t be sure?” 

 

“No”, he said, the dread slowly draining from him until nothing was left in its place but burning regret. Genji sighed “I’m sorry.” 

 

“Why?” 

 

“Because we were having a good time. Because I was about to tell you something important. Then I just screwed everything up.” 

 

“You did not.” 

 

“I did.” 

 

“And I say you did not.” 

 

“You’re not going to let me win this argument are you?”, he asked with a weak laugh. 

 

“I’m afraid not. Though, I’m not sure I would call this an argument. If that is the case it would seem we argue a great deal.”

 

“I guess”, Genji said, “I also guess I’ve been winning all of them.” 

 

“We learn little from victory much from defeat.” 

 

“True, but I’ve won so much that I’ve learned quite a lot.”

 

Zenyatta shook his head patting his shoulder “Perhaps, or maybe I am simply letting you win. As I let you win those 3 games at the arcade earlier”, he said with a chuckle. 

 

“Or you could just admit that I managed to best you”, Genji replied, only mildly flustered, his face hot behind his visor. 

 

Zenyatta laughed but didn’t concede to his claim “We should be heading back to the hotel”, he said, as Genji surveyed the darkening sky sighing, the moment lost. 

 

“You’re probably right”, he answered, crestfallen. 

 

“Wait, there is something you wanted to ask me.” 

 

“It was nothing”, Genji said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

 

“You’re certain?”, Zenyatta asked he didn’t sound convinced. 

 

“I am”, he said, feeling more uncertain than he had in years. The face of that would-be dragon cutting through the placid waters of his thoughts like a blade. 

 

They returned to the room just as the neon lights of the shops truly began to illuminate the streets. With a little maneuvering and a gentle push the Pachimari was successfully thrust through the doorway. Zenyatta seemed pleased and Genji was always heartened to see the monk content, but he couldn’t help to continue berating himself for letting the perfect moment slip through his fingers. He sat on the bed, exhausted from the day, his mind no longer on the man from the park. Instead, his thoughts were focused on the monk in front of him. Zenyatta sat the plush on the opposite bed “It was an excellent day”, he said happily. “It was”, Genji replied, trying to shake off the disappointment “It’s the best day I’ve had in awhile.” He pauses, perhaps he doesn’t need the perfect moment. Maybe he just needs one moment. That's all it would take. “And it’s all thanks to you”, he said, moving to stand next to Zenyatta, his legs feeling close to buckling. 

 

“I dare not take credit for something like that”, Zenyatta said.

 

“You should, I would have never enjoyed myself this much without you.”

 

“You flatter me Genji, though I fear I should only want to take partial credit. I am just grateful that you were willing to share this experience with me.” 

 

Genji’s heart felt like it was in his throat. It was now or never.

 

“I want to share everything with you”, Genji said softly, laying his hands on the monk’s shoulders.

 

“I’m aware”, Zenyatta said, fondly.

 

“You are?...wait, what are you saying?” 

 

“I am saying I know about your feelings towards me”, he said sounding bashful. 

 

“You do?”, Genji sputtered. 

 

Zenyatta gave a quiet laugh as he raised his hand to caress the side of his face. “You are not subtle in what you desire Genji”, he said sounding affectionate. 

 

Genji looked away in dismay “Mondatta said I should be upfront and tell you how I felt. He said you were oblivious to some things.” 

 

“Mondatta means well, though I think he doesn’t give me enough credit. I would have to be beyond oblivious not to notice your flirting.” 

 

“Alright, so if you’ve known all this time why didn’t you say anything?” 

 

“I thought I was being fairly obvious in flirting back with you.” 

 

Genji went still, he thought back to the past few weeks, what he had assumed as just gentle teasing and simple acts of kindness took on a whole new meaning. “Are you saying I’ve been the oblivious one?”, he asked. 

 

“Perhaps.” 

 

“This is insane”, he stated. 

 

“Is it?”, Zenyatta asked. 

 

“I’ve been dying every night thinking about you”, he said, the words spilling from his mouth before he could stop them. 

 

“Truly?” 

 

“Yes! It’s been torture. I’ve been struggling just to keep my hands to myself.”

 

“Hm, is that so?”, Zenyatta asked teasingly “I have to admit it has been the same for me.” 

 

“What? Really?” 

 

“Yes, of course.” 

 

“How long have you been feeling that way?”

 

“Ever since you fell from the cliff.”

 

“That’s been months now.” 

 

“Yes, it has been a challenge to be sure.” 

 

“Alright but- I wouldn't have thought you would like me in that way.” 

 

“Why not?”, Zenyatta asked. Genji shrugged. “You are clear-sighted, courageous, passionate, reliable...I could go on but I fear I would bore you. You are very attractive Genji, surely you must know that.” 

 

“I used to be.” 

 

“You were, and still are.” 

 

“You saw my old photos?” 

 

“You were part of a well-known family Genji, your photos were in the news quite a bit.”

 

“What did you think?” 

 

“You were very handsome, as I said you still are. Though your beauty doesn’t lie solely in your outward appearance. As I said, there are many things to admire about you.”

 

Genji felt that same longing, that same heedless desire penetrating his bones. He gently moved his hands to massage the monk’s shoulders “I thought you said you weren’t a smooth talker”, he said. 

 

Zenyatta chuckled lightly, bringing his arm to wrap around his middle “I suppose I have simply learned from the best”, he answered. 

 

They stood there in contented silence for a moment, Genji contemplating his racing pulse and the swell of emotion he felt for the man in front of him. “I’m going to kiss you now”, he announced awkwardly, his voice seeming to catch in his throat. Zenyatta paid it no mind “Go ahead”, he said, waiting expectantly.

 

Genji was both elated and apprehensive. That seemed to be his response to most things these days, a strange mixture of reluctance and over excitement. He knew what it would mean to kiss Zenyatta, he would have to let the monk see his true face. He briefly considered turning out the lights, plunging them into darkness, trying to save some illusionary ideal. Some version of himself that was unscarred and without flaw. But he didn’t want to turn out the lights, he wanted to be able to see Zenyatta. He wanted to watch the slow motions of his body, the precise gestures of his hands. So he kept the lights on as he stepped out of Zenyatta’s embrace, and his hands moved to the back of his head and gently pressed down on the metal at the base of his skull. He felt the short release of steam as his trembling fingers removed his faceplate and visor. It was strange to see Zenyatta with his eyes bared, with nothing between them, no visor to tint his vision. He looked away as he removed the last bit of metal to bare the rest of his skull, his hair back to the jet black of his youth. He met Zenyatta’s gaze again, trying to gauge his reaction, looking for signs of revulsion or disgust.

 

He knew what he would see. He had burned the image into his mind long ago. He had looked into the mirror for many hours as he recovered, not for vanity, but to see the extent of the damage, to see what he had lost. Memorizing every scar and abrasion. He knew what he would see, a mass of scars mottling his cheeks, the line and angle of his brows broken by separate scars, his lips were the only thing that had gone unscathed. His eyes were on the floor again, his thoughts threatening to swallow him. He felt cool hands under the line of his jaw and his head gently lifted until his gaze was on Zenyatta. “You rethinking your decision?”, he asked with a broken laugh. Zenyatta shook his head. “Never”, he answered softly “You are beautiful just as you are”, he said, his fingers smoothing along the edge of his jaw. Genji couldn’t say anything, he knew whatever words he tried to speak would fall short of what he felt, that his voice would waver, that his eyes would water. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat and took Zenyatta’s hand and kissed the palm, reveling in the feeling of cool metal under his lips.

 

Zenyatta stroked along the line of his jaw, he pulled the monk close to him, their bodies slotted together. He brought one hand to cradle the back of his head, the other holding around his waist as he kissed him along the seam of his faceplate. A fervent and passionate kiss that gave way to ones that followed along the angle of his jaw, and to the side of his face. Zenyatta loosed a contented sigh as he felt those same cool hands card themselves through his hair, massaging languid circles on his scalp. He shuddered briefly, slightly surprised with those exploratory touches. He had imagined for days what it would be like to kiss Zenyatta. He had wondered what it would feel like, the sensation, the taste, he had wondered if he would miss the fact that he would not be able to kiss him back. But as Zenyatta’s hands trailed down his spine, the other still massaging along the curve of his scalp, he realized he didn’t miss it. Especially not when he pulled him into his lap, and he gave a low moan that almost made him toss the monk from his lap and try to decipher the puzzle of making love with bodies composed of alloy and hardware. Instead, he ceased kissing him, realizing that in his rapture he hadn’t stopped to take a breath. 

 

“I think I am beginning to understand the merits of kissing”, Zenyatta said, sounding breathless.

 

He laughed “If you thought that was good you haven't seen anything yet.” 

 

“Ah, there’s more?” 

 

“Definitely”, Genji answered, laying him back against the pillows of the bed to kiss along the grooves of his neck and down his torso. “You are incorrigible”, Zenyatta said fondly but made no moves to stop him. Genji was glad for it, he wasn’t sure he could stop at this point, his tongue laving over an exposed node hidden under coils of wire and metal plating. He felt those same fingers gently combing through his hair tighten slightly, a low contented sigh escaping from Zenyatta, his other hand stroking along the ridge of his nose, over his brows, his cheeks. To his surprise Zenyatta’s hands roamed further, exploring and smoothing over the angles of his body. He gave a sharp gasp as Zenyatta’s fingers brushed under the metal plating at his sides. He withdrew for a moment “Are you alright?”, he asked, sounding concerned. “Fine”, Genji replied dazedly, his head swimming “Just as long as you do that again.” Zenyatta quickly obliged him and he realized through the haze of pleasure that he hadn’t truly considered the full extent of his sensitivity. And that the Zenyatta who only resided in his feverish daydreams could not hold a candle to the real thing. He couldn’t have anticipated the way he leaned forward to gently bump his faceplate along his mouth; his way of kissing him back, nor the way his hand lingered right in the sway of his lower back before gently creeping down to lay along the curve of his ass. Nor the gentle laughter he gave when he jolted at the gesture “What’s wrong?”, he asked.

 

“Nothing, I guess I just wasn't expecting you to do that”, Genji said blushing. 

 

“And why not?”, he asked simply “I have been desiring to do this for some time now.” 

 

“Really?” 

 

“Of course, since we first met I found you attractive. But I didn’t think it wise to pursue you then. It’s only when you became so obvious in your flirtation that I thought perhaps I had a chance.” 

 

“You had more than a chance.” 

 

“Oh?”, he asked, sounding pleased. 

 

“You’re the only one I want”, Genji breathed, once again kissing him on the neck. 

 

“Really?” 

 

“Ok, now I just think you’re fishing for compliments.” 

 

“The only ones I would want are from you.” 

 

Genji groaned “You’re killing me Zenyatta.” 

 

“I would never”, the monk answered, laughing softly. 

 

They lapsed into tender caresses after that. Zenyatta had turned out the light in favor of trying to lull them both to sleep, but Genji was wide awake. He laid on the bed with his head in Zenyatta’s lap as the monk massaged along the angles and curves of his face. He shivered slightly as his fingers smoothed over the edges of scars, hyper sensitive to touch. He felt happy for the first time in what felt like too long. 

 

“If I had known about your little crush I would have confessed earlier. We could have been doing this every night.” 

 

“A tempting prospect. As it is I fear Mondatta is never going to let me hear the end of this. I would suggest that you ready yourself for a great deal of teasing in the near future Genji.” 

 

Genji scoffed “I can handle it”, he said, ”As long as I have you.” 

 

Zenyatta caressed the sides of his face slowly before kissing him. It was light and fleeting but made his lips tingle with a consoling coolness. “We are in agreement then”, he said softly, as Genji leaned up slightly to kiss him back. They fell asleep in each other’s arms not long after that, their bodies slotted comfortably together, Zenyatta’s orbs gently chiming in the dark. 

 

The sky was nebulous, the stars and moon swallowed by stygian clouds. A low rumbling shook through the inky landscape that rattled his body and made his teeth chatter. He felt a shock run through him. Harsh and painful, like his skin had been touched by a live wire. He looked around, the rumbling only grew louder until it was deafening. Then he saw it. A dragon, but it wasn’t his own. No, this dragon was a melancholy shade of azure and sported two fearsome heads with vivid blazing eyes and two gaping maws that threatened to swallow him. He stepped back, he knew those infernal serpents anywhere. They twisted and coiled through the air towards him. He tried to run, stumbling through the darkness until he heard an unearthly crack. He looked around rapidly, above him, to the sides, his feet. Beneath him, the pitchy ground opened up to reveal a writhing mass of florid dragons. They leaped out from under his feet, rushing past him in a flurry of scales and furious roars. They surged up and over to those same gaping maws of the twins, leaping up to scratch, claw, bite, wound, destroy. But it did little. The azure dragons shrugged them off, blowing flames from their mouths, quieting the ones who managed to escape its sacred fire with several quick swipes of its talons until there was nothing left. Its gaze turned to Genji and he felt that familiar ache of fear in his stomach. Instead of striking, it spoke, slow rumbling words that he struggled and strained to make clear. 

 

He woke with a start, almost jolting straight up and out of the bed, almost waking Zenyatta from his sleep. He did neither, though, he tried to quiet his breathing as he gently unwrapped himself from Zenyatta’s embrace and walked to the bathroom. He spent several long minutes staring himself in the face. It had been a long time since he had looked at himself without that crushing sensation of self-hatred to accompany it. He quickly tossed some water on his face, flicking the remaining droplets from his fingertips, and walked back into the bedroom to contemplate his dream. The last time he had dreamt of something like that it had acted as an omen for the Talon agent’s arrival on the mountain. Now he wasn’t sure, it hadn’t even been his dragon that he had dreamt about, it had been Hanzo’s. He ground his teeth in agitation, his face growing hot from anger. Why would he be dreaming about his brother’s dragons? Even when they were younger that had never happened. He was also baffled by the image of those red dragons, writhing under his feet like a great mass of snakes. His mind darted back to the man at the park, his face quickly illuminated by the glow of his cheap lighter, a quick look at a reptilian face with two fiendish eyes. Or at least that’s what he thought. An ill omen, too many unanswered questions, but he had to consider it. The possibility that in his absence, in his overconfidence, he had missed something, and that maybe in the years that had passed the clan had been able to reform again. Maybe Hanzo was leading them just as he always was destined to. A pit of lowly vipers ruled by an imperial dragon. 

 

He couldn’t get back to sleep with the idea of that. If the Shimada-gumi had reformed he needed to know about it, put an end to it, make sure it was truly gone. Not for revenge, but for justice. He looked to his sword propped next to the bed, easy access if he needed it in the night. Perhaps he was being paranoid. He hadn’t been able to get a good look at that man’s tattoo, it could have been a coincidence. But it didn’t feel that way. Between the man and now the dream he felt as though something significant was about to happen, a turning point. With that thought in mind, he pulled out a notepad from the bedside table, hastily wrote out a quick explanation for Zenyatta in case he hadn’t returned by the time he woke up, took up his sword, and quietly made his way out into the night. 

 

As Genji made his way through the neon-lit streets and down narrow alleyways he was grateful for all those long grueling hours of ninja training his father had put him through. “You will appreciate it one day”, he had told him, as Genji had complained that he was missing a date for this. His father had merely smirked and said, “You’ll thank me one day.” At the time that had done nothing but infuriated him, now, though, he had to admit he was thankful for it as he made his way to the castle. He was moving slower than usual, not out of caution but out of some strange sense of fear. It made him anxious to think that the people who had a hand in making him this way were somehow miraculously back together as if he had done nothing. Also the notion that he may see Hanzo had him grinding his teeth with a mixture of rage and nervousness. He didn’t know what he would do if he saw him; kill him, punch him, hug him? None of those seemed to be the right option. 

 

He continued his trek, the shimmering lights of the city did nothing to temper the darkness that he felt was looming just ahead of him. He reached the castle before he even realized it, the streets around the gates were abandoned, save for a lone guard. His gun sitting on his hip within its holster, he looked wholly uninterested as he stood there leaning against the gate trying to get his lighter to work. Schnick, schnick, schnick, a flame burst to life, briefly illuminating the man’s face as he lit his cigarette. It was the same man from the park. Genji’s eyes grew wide behind his visor. 

 

He sprang to life. He dashed across the last few feet of the street. The man noticed the movement. He spat out his cigarette, drew his gun, fired 4 shots. He deflected one, the other 3 flew past. He hit the dirt, rolled under him, one swift kick between the legs and the man was falling. He jumped back on his feet, tossed his gun, and grabbed him and pushed him against the gate. He heard him groan in pain “What the hell is wrong with y-” 

 

His blade glinted against the flesh of his neck “Not another word”, he breathed “Show me your neck.” 

 

“What are y-”

 

“Just do it.”

 

The man obliged him after another moment of hesitation. There it was, the dragon. Its body colored a violent shade of red, it’s head engulfing one side of his neck, the golden irises of its eyes peering up at him, the rest of its body obscured by his shirt. “Where did you get that?”, Genji breathed, trying to keep his hands from shaking. 

 

“Where do you think?”, the man scoffed “There’s only one family around here that has the dragon”, he said. Genji felt his muscles seize with anxiety, he wished for a brief moment that he had never left the room. The man said nothing, he was surprised he hadn’t tried to escape yet.

 

“Wait, I know you. You’re that omnic from the park”, he said suddenly.

 

“I’m a cyborg”, he corrected, the word still feeling strange in his mouth, his ire once again raised. “And I have some questions for you.”

 

“Yeah, I bet you do. But I’m not answering any of them.” 

 

“You will if you want to keep all your fingers.”

 

“Pfft, who do you think you’re talking to cyborg?”, he asked, shaking his head as if he were humoring him.

 

“Alright, how about your whole hand then”, he threatened. He inwardly cringed, his threat sounded forced and weak, even to him. A flimsy bluff. The man looked at him, at the sword still insistently pressed against his throat. 

 

“Go ahead, do it. If you can”, he said mockingly. 

 

He didn’t think. Thud, and the man crumpled to the ground knocked unconscious from the blunt end of his hilt. He walked over him, scaling the wall. He was wasting time, he could do his own reconnaissance. He alighted on top of the wall and his fingers brushed a small node that turned off the lights of his visor. He dropped to the ground below, no one was in sight. “That’s strange”, he thought, even if the reformation was fairly recent there should still be guards patrolling the grounds. The grounds, which hadn’t changed at all. They were the same as they always had been, neat and pristine, the cherry blossoms blanketing the ground like freshly fallen snow. He felt at once apprehensive and eager to feel familiar soil underneath his feet again. “If the Shimada-gumi has reformed I’ll just bring them down like I did before”, he thought with a serene kind of rage. He continued to walk through the grounds and inside the first room. He exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, his feet resting on the wood paneled floors, still as immaculate as ever. The castle even smelled the same, a scent he couldn’t easily name or identify. 

 

He felt a surge of conflicting emotions threaten to bring him to his knees. There were so many memories trapped inside the walls of this building, dusty and old, and out of place. He could feel them all creeping along his back, up his sides, invading his mind with bitter regret, anger, love. He leaned against the wall trying to steady himself, wishing he had woken Zenyatta from his slumber and brought him here with him. His friend, his lover, his partner. He thought perhaps he was getting ahead of himself, but that’s what he wanted, what he needed. He wished desperately for his presence right now as he walked further in. Those same edacious ghosts threatening to ensnare him as they did back when he was young and he only had the company of despondent people to try to console him. His steps led him stumbling in further, he looked to the ground trying to catch his breath. He looked back up, fixing his gaze on the doorway of the far wall to try to balance himself. But he didn’t see the doorway. 

 

In that moment he saw himself. A child of 5 running through the room, his bare feet patting against the wood of the floor, his brother chasing after him. He saw his mother carrying him through the courtyard, gently cooing tender words in his ear as tears streamed down his face after a bad fall. He saw he and Hanzo meditating in the courtyard, their father’s friend; an old grizzled man in a gray suit admonishing him that he needed to focus. He saw his father moving silently from room to room, his mother’s pearl necklace clutched in his hand, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. He saw Hanzo moving silently through the rooms of their home, his sword unsheathed, ready to strike. He leaned against the wall for support, the air seemed to have grown heavy with the weight of those memories, the happiness, the sadness, the unbearable weight of the past. He managed to gather his thoughts. He felt foolish. Had he left Zenyatta cold in their bed for this? He hadn’t even seen anyone yet, no true signs that the clan had been reestablished. But the tattoo, the fierce golden eyes of the dragon dancing over the expanse of that man’s throat, had him convinced that there was something amiss. He felt his blood boil and then suddenly run ice cold. If they truly had reformed that would mean all of the work he had put in would be for nothing, that even his very existence was in vain. 

 

“No”, he thought fiercely. It wasn’t in vain, he was glad to be alive now, he would not let himself be dragged down those same bleak roads he had traveled in the past. “I owe it to myself to take a better look around”, he thought and hoped that Zenyatta would be the same heavy sleeper he knew him to be and wouldn’t wake before he returned. He walked through the courtyard, passing the bell that he and Hanzo had been forced to clean once as a mild form of punishment. Genji can’t remember what they had done, but he remembered his father had watched them work, making sure they were truly getting the job done. He walked inside and without even realizing it he took the long corridor past the old kitchen to his room. As he suspected it looked like it was only used for storage now, there was a fine layer of dust covering the floor as well as several stacks of boxes lined up against the walls. Curiosity overrode his better judgment and he rifled through one of the topmost boxes. 

 

Nothing of note. Some old papers held together with string, some weather worn books, jewelry, a pearl necklace. He stopped. That was his mother’s, he remembered it clearly. His father carrying it close to his heart like a security blanket after her death. His mother wearing it the night of his 11th birthday as she presented him with his present, a smile on her face and feigning tears “My son is all grown up now”, she had cried, she would not live to see him turn 12. 

 

He swallowed the lump in his throat, placing it carefully back in the box on top of a worn orange scarf, his scarf. The one Hanzo had given him not long after she had passed and the winter seemed somehow colder, and he had the worst cold of his life. “Here”, Hanzo had said as he draped it over his shoulders before gently tying it around his neck. “You need to cover up better or you’ll never get rid of that cold”, he said as they continued their trek through the snow. Genji had pulled it closer to his neck, relishing in its warmth and softness. “Thank you”, he mumbled, his sadness momentarily abated. Hanzo had given him a brief smile that only barely managed to reach his eyes before urging him to walk faster. Genji wrapped his hand in the orange fabric, just as soft as he remembered it. He had worn that same scarf for a long time, it was only when the rift between them had become a grand chasm that neither one of them could cross, that he no longer deigned to wear it. 

 

He sighed heavily, dismayed by the vividness of those memories and even more so that these things were still here after so many years. He dug down deeper into that pit of nostalgia his fingers colliding with something hard wrapped within the folds of his old scarf. It was a picture faded from the sun, the glass slightly cracked, the frame itself a bit worn. It was them, he and Hanzo in a rare moment of commiseration had taken the picture together at their father’s request. Hanzo had looked the other way, his arms crossed over his chest. He had looked at the camera, not even able to throw his arm around his brother’s shoulders as he had done in happier days, sincerely hoping that his smile was convincing enough. His father didn’t know about the schism that was slowly building between them. How they could barely speak anymore without throwing out insults, their barbs a short step away from physical blows. Their words building up to long drawn out arguments that lasted days at a time, and left them both remorseful and far more wounded than they let on. 

 

To their father’s knowledge, they got along just as well as they did when they were children. Genji had agreed to cover up the frail and broken remains of their relationship at Hanzo’s request. “Father has enough on his hands without us adding to his burden”, Hanzo had told him sternly one night “He’s already ill, the least we can do is try to be civil around him.” 

 

“I will if you will”, Genji had spat out. 

 

Hanzo had merely glared at him “It’s a deal then”, he said, turning to leave. He had felt bad lying to him for all those years, though he was sure he suspected that their forced smiles and false kindness were a ruse. Their father had not become the powerful leader he was by being easily fooled. But if he did suspect something all those years he had never once mentioned it. Only once, when his health had begun to fail and he spent more time in bed, had he briefly brought it up. Genji remembered sitting by his side once, a rare thing for him, and his father had put his hand on his own, a weak grip. “I need you to promise me something”, he said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. 

 

“Anything”, Genji answered quickly. 

 

“Watch out for each other.” 

 

Genji huffed “Hanzo can watch out for himself.” 

 

“I know. He always could, even when he was little he would try to do everything himself. But I’m asking you to watch out for him for all the times he can’t. He’s never done well to talk about what’s bothering him, he’d rather suffer in silence. Just like you.” 

 

“We’re nothing alike”, Genji seethed, indignant. 

 

“Not at first glance, but there are many ways in which you are. One of them being that you never say what’s really bothering you. Something you got from me I guess”, he said with a shrug. “But it’s like I said, I still want you two to look out for each other. When I die the elders will be putting a lot of pressure on your brother and I need you to look out for him.” 

 

“What about me?”, he asked, feeling like a petulant child. Even more agitated that his father was speaking about his death so casually. 

 

“Hanzo will do the same for you.” 

 

“He hasn't, not for awhile.”

 

His father frowned “Sooner or later you two will have to talk about what’s going on, instead of just arguing.” 

 

“You know about that?” 

 

“I live here, how could I not know? Besides Takeda and some of the others have overheard you two arguing quite frequently.” He sighed heavily “I know Hanzo may not seem like it to you now, but he is trying to look out for you in his own way. There are reasons for his concern”, he said, his grip on his hand tightening. 

 

“Fine, I promise”, Genji replied, not knowing at the time what was awaiting him. 

 

He briefly considered throwing the frame down. Cracking the glass, splintering the already worn wood, ripping the photo apart, but thought better of it. It seemed wrong to destroy it. He looked at the photo again, his eyes focused on Hanzo. His brother, his friend, his murderer. He looked away, suddenly sick to his stomach. He wished he were back in the room with Zenyatta, curled up next to him, safe, away from the familiar sting of the past. Genji’s gaze focused on himself, a moment frozen in time, his old body, his old face. He ran his fingers over the splintered glass of the frame, he felt a wave of remorse so strong he thought he might collapse. Although he was slowly beginning to accept his body as it was now, it was still hard. Especially seeing himself here, human, whole. “I am whole now, and if I’m not I will be soon.” That thought sounded close to Zenyatta's tone, that same deep cherished voice that praised and advised him all in the same breath. He thought about putting the picture back in the box, throwing away that vestige of a past he would like nothing more to forget. But instead, he looked at the photo again, rose-colored nostalgia boring itself through the stony parts of his resolve, through the anger and bitter sadness that threatened to choke him. He held the frame close to his heart, his fingers running along the edges, a boon and a bain, like his body. Genji took the photo with him as he walked out of the room, trying to shake off the dust of a past that still felt suffocatingly close. 

 

Genji walked along the dark expanse of the hallway and stopped in front of the shoji. He knew what was on the other side, he knew what room this was. It was the room where this whole ordeal had started, where Hanzo had made it clear what was important to him. He didn’t know if he could go into that room, he felt his muscles seize with anxiousness and his stomach clench. “I can’t do it”, he thought bitterly. As he turned to leave he heard something that caught his attention. Tap, tap, tap, it sounded like it was coming from the other side of the room. He moved closer, peering hesitantly around the corner, his curiosity getting the better of him again. Genji saw a sword gleaming in the light of the room. 

 

He almost recoiled out of shock. That was Hanzo’s sword. He would remember that blade anywhere, it was the same sword that had cut his body beyond recognition, staining the floor with his blood. What was it doing there and not by Hanzo’s side? He looked away, feeling foolish. Why was he still here? He hadn’t even seen anything that would suggest that the clan had reformed, that man at the gate had been the only person he’s seen since he arrived. “Maybe he was just trying to trick me”, he thought bitterly. 

 

Tap, tap, tap. “What the hell is that?”, he thought angrily. He looked around the corner, someone was coming through the dark hallway and into the room. As soon as the figure stepped into the light he immediately knew who it was. His appearance had changed, but he would always recognize that austere expression, that nostalgic scowl, the high cheek bones passed down from their father.

 

Hanzo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter took so long to get out. We will find out more about what's been happening with the Shimada-gumi next chapter as well some flashbacks. I also wanted to say thank you again to all the people who leave comments and kudos, they truly brighten my day. I hope to have the 8th chapter out soon.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their confrontation, Genji tries to make sense of his past with Hanzo and asks Zenyatta for some help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the wonderful comments last chapter, they really made my day!  
> There is some very light violence in this chapter, nothing too graphic just a heads up.

That night in the castle was the stillest he had ever seen it. The guards had all conveniently left, the moon was covered by a thick swath of clouds, the ground was still wet from a heavy downpour, the cherry tree branches stripped bare from the wind, the ground plastered with their errant blooms. He had made his way through the courtyard casually whistling, he had just spent the last few hours at the mercy of a voracious lover who had made it her business to make sure every last inch of him was given her utmost attention. He had, of course, returned the favor setting to work on his knees until his tongue was sore and aching and she was willing to let him leave. 

 

Perhaps it was those enticing memories of that tryst that made him miss the unmistakable sound of a sword being unsheathed. He only noticed something was amiss when he came into the room that housed the sublime image of the dragons and he saw Hanzo standing there in the half light, his head bowed, his shoulders tense, his sword drawn. “Do you ever stop practicing?”, Genji asked, a little more curt than necessary. He had hated their constant fights but he certainly didn’t make it any easier he supposed. Hanzo didn’t say anything he merely stood there, he looked up to meet his gaze his face contorted until his expression was unreadable. “What? No come back today?”, he asked “I’m disappointed I’ve been working on some good jabs too”, he sighed “Guess it will have to wait.” 

 

Hanzo still hadn’t said anything, in fact, he had barely moved since Genji had come into the room. Genji didn’t dwell on it. He was about to pull out his phone to text his date about meeting up tomorrow when Hanzo finally spoke, his voice steely, unwavering “Stop.” Genji turned, Hanzo wasn’t looking at him he was looking to the floor, his sword held at his side. 

 

“What is it now?” 

 

“Draw your sword.” 

 

“You want to spar, now?” 

 

“We are not going to spar”, Hanzo said, his voice suddenly gone hoarse. 

 

“Then what are we doing?”, Genji asked. 

 

Rapidly, his mind raced through the strange occurrences of the night; the darkness of the castle, the guards sudden departure, Hanzo’s constant demands supplemented by the elders that he fall in line. Their thinly veiled threats, and the most damning piece of evidence; his brother’s appearance here with his sword drawn, asking him to draw his own blade. 

 

“What the fuck Hanzo?”, he asked, barely able to wrap his head around what was about to happen, his voice shaking with anger and disbelief “What the hell are you doing?” 

 

Hanzo said nothing, his eyes remained on the floor “My duty.” 

 

“To kill me?” 

 

His brother remained silent. “What the hell is wrong with you?” 

 

“What?” 

 

“Are you really that much of the elder’s puppet now that you're willing to do this?” 

 

Hanzo looked at him, his face flushed with anger “I did not choose this, you did.” 

 

“I did?”, he seethed, incredulous.

 

“Yes, I told you what you had to do. You merely had to fall in line with what was expected of you. Instead, you dishonor our family with your scandals and recklessness.” 

 

“Do you even know why that is? Do you even know why I’m never here? It’s because living here with you has been hell.” 

 

“It has not been ideal for me either”, Hanzo said with a scowl. 

 

“So that justifies what you’re about to do?” 

 

“Draw your sword Genji.” 

 

“I’m not going to do it.” 

 

“Draw your sword. Now.” 

 

“No.” 

 

“Would you listen to me once in your miserable life and simply draw your sword?”, Hanzo shouted brokenly. 

 

Genji let the words hang between them for long moments. “Father would be ashamed to see you now.”

 

Hanzo went very still, his breathing seemed to stop altogether, he lowered his head heaved a heavy sigh, and within the next second, he came dashing forward his plea for Genji to arm himself apparently forgotten. Genji ran out of his way, back towards the wall as he drew his own sword. Clang, their blades met, rattling together as they tried to push the other back. He looked into his brother’s face and he saw a deep sadness in his eyes, his teeth bared with anger, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

 

What were they doing? It seemed neither one of them knew, as they stood locked together like that for the next few moments until Hanzo broke away first. He caught him off guard with a swipe to his side, a superficial cut. Genji rolled out of the way before he attacked again, threw 3 shuriken, he heard the thunk of 2 hitting the wall, and then a hiss. He looked to see Hanzo staring at him, a stripe of red traveling down his cheek. Genji went still. They took stock of each other then, neither of them moving, not quite knowing what to do next. They had never injured each other. There had been scrapes and bruises when they were children, but nothing intentional, not like this. Hanzo’s resolve seemed to falter. He looked at Genji with a confused frown on his face, his eyes roving over him as if to assess what he was thinking, what he might lose if he went through with this if it would be worth it. “Obviously he thinks it is. It’s worth killing me as long as the clan is still in tact”, Genji thought sadly, his eyes felt close to watering. He bit back bitter sadness only anger was left in its place. “What? Losing your nerve?”, he called mockingly. 

 

Hanzo looked conflicted “It doesn’t have to be this way”, he said quietly. 

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Abandon your reckless ways and lead the clan with me”, he said, pleadingly. 

 

Genji looked at Hanzo, the hopeful look on his face, how easy it would be to agree with him, to fall in line with what was expected of him, to rule alongside him just as their father had always hoped they would. But their father wasn’t here. He had passed a month ago, his words still ringing in the confines of his mind, to look out for his brother. “How can I keep that promise now?”, he thought bitterly.

 

“I can’t do it”, he said finally. 

 

“What?” 

 

“I never wanted any part of the clan’s business and that’s not going to change. Not even with you threatening to kill me.” 

 

Hanzo looked stricken. “Why must you make this so difficult? I’m simply trying to keep together what father had spent so long to build.” 

 

“By trying to kill me? That’s going to keep it together?” 

 

“I wouldn’t have to if you would simply take part in the clan’s dealings, even on a small scale”, he said, his voice cracking. 

 

“I’m not going to do that.” 

 

Hanzo looked away, he seemed to be struggling against the clan ideals that their father had tried to instill in him all those years and his own flimsy sense of morality. “I am sorry Genji”, he said, his eyes set on him then, his tone grave, his eyes gone steely. 

 

Genji looked at his brother. This was the same man who had made sure he was fed after their mother’s death, who had helped him pull pranks, told him stories, fought with him, cried with him, made him laugh. Now he was in front of him with his sword drawn, his mouth set into a hard frown, his jaw set. He felt his throat go dry and a suffocating haze of anger, regret and deep soul searing sadness overtake him. He drew his sword finally, the gleam almost blinding “I’m sorry too”, he answered.

 

With that they dashed towards each other, their swords once again clashing, an eerie sound that rang throughout the room and knocked him off balance. Hanzo swiped once, twice, three times. He swiped for his body, his arm, his legs. He caught Genji in his thigh, he fell to the floor. Hanzo brought his blade down to try to pin him there. He swung out of the way, kicking Hanzo in the face. He caught him in the chin, which sent him reeling back clutching his mouth, spitting blood onto the floor. 

 

Genji wanted to care desperately. He wanted to stop. He suspected Hanzo might want to also, but how could they come back from this? How could they possibly reconcile after this? 

 

He didn’t know, and he couldn’t care. He couldn’t care that his brother was coming at him again, swinging for his head, his blade slicing a long line across the skin of his nose. Genji cried out in pain, he retaliated by punching him in the mouth. He cut his knuckles on Hanzo’s teeth as they both fell to the floor. Genji rolled on top of him, he fumbled for his sword, trying to get a good cut in. Too angry now to care what was happening. Hanzo was already there, his blade passing through his shoulder. He slumped for a moment, Hanzo kicked him off. He rolled, stumbling to his feet, his shoulder bleeding heavily. 

 

The fight had gone that way for what felt like hours. Genji realized as he continued to see flashes of his own blood spilling to the floor and his brother continued his relentless assault, that he wasn’t going to win, and that he wished he had spent more time training than chasing partners for his bed. He could feel himself slipping with each blow he managed to block, he had barely injured Hanzo at all, though he was content with the awful gash he had cut across his back. The fight only grew worse, as even in his fatigue he grew angrier and they began to spar verbally as they blocked and parried blows. Only someone who knew him so well would be able to hurt him so deeply, would be able to pinpoint the insecurities, the fears, the weak points of his character, and the pain so accurately that the words that came coupled with Hanzo’s blows cut far deeper than his blade. 

 

It finally came to an end when Hanzo sliced through the flesh of his other shoulder. He staggered back against the wall, sliding down it, his wound leaving a crimson trail behind. He fell on his back, hitting the floorboards with a muffled thud, his chest heaving with that last expenditure of energy. Hanzo loomed over him, his face belying a hundred different emotions before he plunged his sword into Genji’s stomach.

 

Genji screamed, his vision went white, everything he knew was pain, his fingernails clawed at the floorboards. He fought back pain, terror, rage, and his own breathlessness as he tried to unpin himself from the floor, as he struggled to get Hanzo to lift his sword. “Hanzo”, he said, he can barely speak. He sees Hanzo look at him finally, cruel and austere, eyeing him with a strange mixture of regret, anger, and pity. 

 

“You bastard”, he breathes, his voice raspy, trying to assuage his mounting terror, he can feel how hard it is just to draw breath.

 

Hanzo said nothing, he averts his eyes as if he can’t bear to see what he’s done. Hanzo finally replies his tone weary, clipped, pained “I had no other choice”, he said, a thousand different emotions packed into that simple sentence.

 

“Bullshit, you always had a choice”, he said bitterly. 

 

“My duties are to the clan”, he said mechanically. 

 

“Dammit! Fuck the clan!”, he yells “What about your duty to me?”, he shouts as his eyes threaten to spill with tears. 

 

Hanzo says nothing, he merely turns to walk jerkily to the door. “Hanzo! Hanzo!”, he screams, incensed. “Come back here!”, he shouts as he watches Hanzo retreat from the room. His anger only swells as he realizes he can’t do anything to stop him. He bangs his fist against the floor until the bones in his hand feel ready to break. His breathing grows only more ragged as his eyes suddenly spill with tears, the pain finally too much to bear. “Please come back”, he said, too quiet for anyone but himself to hear, the vermillion pool of his blood spreading along the lines of the floorboards.

 

Genji comes back to the present slowly. He has to catch himself, it feels hard to breathe. He peers around the shoji to see his brother kneeling down in front of his old sword. He wants to tackle Hanzo to the ground and beat him senseless, he wants to bring him into a bone crushing embrace, he wants to yell at him for the pain he’s had to endure these past few years, he wants to blame him for everything. But he can’t bring himself to even move. Hanzo doesn’t notice him staring, he’s too absorbed into the motions of some ritual. He considers him, he’s changed a lot from that ill-fated night all those years ago, though he has to concede he has as well though it wasn’t by choice. He’s surprised to see that he was not wearing the starched suit of their father but instead was dressed in a dark kyudo-gi, his arm exposed to display the dragon tattoo that he had received on his 16th birthday, a quiver on his back, and a large bow close by on the floor. He couldn’t tell what he was doing until he smelled the acrid scent of incense. 

 

He had to hold his breath. It smelled much too similar to the incense they had burned when their mother passed when their father passed. Tears sprang to his eyes, he wanted to run, he wanted to toss himself back into bed with Zenyatta and crowd close to him until there was no space left between them. But he couldn’t. He could barely move, he could barely stop his racing pulse, the onslaught of emotions, his erratic breathing. What the hell was Hanzo even doing here? Why was he carrying a bow and quiver? Was he ruling over the clan as he had always dreamed? He wished he could just ask him. “I don’t need him to tell me anything”, he thought bitterly as he tried to get a better vantage point. He silently crept around the shoji and into the room. He looked to the ceiling, within seconds he had leaped up and situated himself between the rafters. He peered down, it seemed Hanzo still hadn’t realized he was there. He was still kneeling as he laid something down on the floorboards. A sparrow’s feather.

 

Genji’s breath hitched. Their mother’s voice came unbidden to his ears, rich and silvery. “You remind me of these sparrows. Always ready to socialize and eager to flit to the next thing”, she said with a laugh, as she tossed a small group of the birds a few grains of her rice. Genji shook his head, utterly bewildered. It wasn’t even the correct date, so why was he here? Did he really think a simple offering of incense was going to set things right? Did he truly think this was going to make up for all the pain and suffering he had inflicted on him? How long had he been doing this? He didn’t have any answers, only more questions seemed to come up in their place and it only agitated him further. Hanzo sighed heavily “What is it now?”, he asked, sounding weary.

 

He sounded like their father he thought belatedly as he realized he had been alerted to his presence. Genji didn’t answer. Would he recognize his voice if he spoke? He didn’t have time to think on it long. Hanzo, with an amazing amount of speed, shot an arrow above his head. He dropped down just in time to avoid it, landing to the floor in a crouch, he stood as Hanzo quickly rose to his feet nocking another arrow, staring at him as though he were trying to make sense of his appearance. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”, he asked gruffly, pointing his arrow at his chest. Genji still didn’t speak, he felt as though everything was suddenly moving at a glacial pace. “Answer me or my arrow finds its mark in your chest”, he said. Genji’s mind raced. Should he tell him who he was? Would he even believe him with how much he’s changed? 

 

“This is your final warning”, Hanzo barked. 

 

“I’m here to pay my respects”, he said, not knowing what possessed him to say that. “Isn’t that what you’re doing?” 

 

Hanzo remained silent, his arrow still trained on his chest “You know nothing”, he answered, his voice shaking with anger. 

 

“I know enough”, Genji replied, his body taut with nervous energy and his hands shaking with an abrupt spike of rage. “I know who you’re trying to honor”, he said quietly, as he remembered with startling vividness his rancor and all those hundreds of lacerations that still marred the surface of his skin. He strode past his brother, kneeling down to take those smoking shoots in his hand, their warm scent suffocating. “Stop”, he heard Hanzo say behind him, his voice cracking. 

 

“Why?”, Genji asked innocently, feeling once again like that petulant child. “This will not bring him back.”

 

Hanzo looked at him, the anger on his face palpable as Genji extinguished those small flames with his fingers, snuffing out their scent. Hanzo swung at him then with his bow, it collided with his arm and sent him sliding across the floor. “You have no right”, he said “You know nothing of what happened that night!”, he yelled, incensed, nocking an arrow and loosing it. It flew right into the joint of his left arm, locking it useless at his side. He let out an enraged cry of pain as he drew his sword, his hands shaking with a barely restrained nervousness. Hanzo fired another volley of arrows. Clang, they met his sword as he deflected them, they fell, loudly clattering at his feet. Hanzo didn’t let up. He fired a shot at his feet that broke into a flurry of iridescent blue arrows that sprang out around him. He narrowly dodged most of them but one found its mark in his side. He snarled as he broke off most of the shaft, and hurled it to the floor. He tossed 3 shuriken, Hanzo effortlessly rolled out of the way, he rolled up fluidly to his knees, fired another shot, his aim was bad, he sent it flying to the ceiling as Hanzo sprang to his feet. He dashed forward, his sword unsheathed teeth bared behind his visor. Hanzo was out of arrows. He slashed once. Hanzo held him off with his bow and pushed forward until he went reeling back. He stepped around him in a circular motion, got behind him, the force of his blade edging towards a vital spot in his back. He missed, he got his arm instead. He heard Hanzo hiss in pain as he side stepped around him and knocked him back with his bow. 

 

An eerie clang rang throughout the room. Once more he faltered, falling back, his chest heaving with sudden exhaustion, his grip on his sword waning, trying to ignore the pain under his ribs, his arm that still hung useless at his side. Hanzo swung at him again, he barely managed to block it. Hanzo was snarling at him. “Why are you really here? To mock me? To shame me?”, he yelled, trying to get more ground, trying to throw him off. 

 

Genji’s voice caught in his throat as he looked at his brother’s face. He saw something in him that made him almost lay down his sword. He knocked him back, Hanzo staggered, almost falling to his knees. He stood there trying to catch his breath, his hand shooting to his arm which had begun to drip heavily with blood, leaving a florid trail across the floor. Genji took stock of his brother. He saw the lines around the corners of his eyes, the dark circles that indicated lack of sleep, his hair beginning to gray at the temples, and the fine line of stubble around the edge of his jaw. But more than that, he saw a deep look of desolation and hopelessness on his face, a look that until recently he had seen in his own eyes. Like the spark of life had been extinguished from him. He looked at once put together and at the same time, somehow, falling apart. To him, it seemed that the thick veneer he had put on to fool the world was slowly crumbling away. Until there was nothing left to see but the barely contained rage and the bitter sadness that collected deep in the marrow of his bones. What would have happened if he hadn’t met Zenyatta? Would he still be wearing that look of desolation on his face? Would he be just as bad off as his brother? He felt guilt run through him, cold and dreadful. What were they doing fighting? What was he doing?

 

Just then he heard it. Thunder? No, footsteps. Hundreds of them, quickly coming from all directions, until he was lost to that deafening noise that drowned out his thoughts. A large group of omnics burst into the room, sleek and white all arrayed in dark tailored suits, guns in their hands and swords on their hips. Genji tried to count them, but there were too many. Before he could ruminate on the hopelessness of their situation he heard a gun fire. It shot past him, towards Hanzo. Faster than he could think, he reacted. Deflecting the bullet back, it shot towards the omnic, piercing his chest. Hanzo looked at him, his eyes wide with shock. The other omnics took aim.

 

“Let’s go!”, he cried, pulling on Hanzo’s arm. Hanzo followed as he ran from the room, the sound of gunfire accompanying their harried steps. They ran along the courtyard, guards made of flesh and blood came out of the other entrances to flank them. One sliced at his head, he dropped to his knees sliding under it, hopped to his feet, and grabbed the blade flipping it and the guard till they were sprawled on the ground at his feet. Hanzo was nearby, he rolled out of the way of an attack, hitting the dirt with an arrow in his hand, he rose to his feet to plunge it into a guard’s chest. Within the next second, the omnics were upon them. They charged towards them at a breakneck pace still firing shots as they ran. This time it was Hanzo who pulled Genji to make the dash out of their line of fire. They ducked behind a wall as the omnics drew closer. “We’re pinned down”, he realized as a small group of men came running towards them. He desperately wished that he had stayed in the room with Zenyatta. That he was still sleeping next to him, caught in his tender embrace, instead of here trapped behind flimsy wood, injured with Hanzo. Hanzo, who had risen to his feet next to him. “What the hell are you doing?”, he yelled. His brother didn’t speak, he merely nocked an arrow, pulled back, and let it soar.

 

A burst of blue light erupted from the ink on his shoulder, within an instant all Genji knew was the roar of the dragons. They raced past him at an astonishing pace, furious and roaring, their maws open, ready to receive their prey. They coiled around each other in a strange celestial dance taking omnic and person alike with them. The ones who managed to evade their mouths were scorched by cerulean flames, so fiercely hot that Genji could feel it from where he was still crouching. They continued their rampage, tearing through each body they came across, rending metal and searing flesh. Until finally there was nothing left but ash and metallic carnage, Genji bit back a shiver of terror at the sight. They came back towards them their work done but their eyes still crazed with bloodlust, their roars sped into a berserk cacophony. Hanzo didn’t look surprised, but he did look angry “Cease!”, he shouted as they rounded towards Genji. Genji ran, he had learned very quickly after a practice bout gone wrong that the dragons could hurt one of their own clan. Perhaps not fatally, but he couldn’t take the chance in this condition. He dashed out of their way wheezing from the pain. He was just able to evade them as they came rushing past again ready to swallow him. He didn’t think. He drew his sword, he concentrated, his mind retreating to some dark tranquil place he hadn’t visited in a long time. He lapsed into a circular step, willing them to obey, to heed his voiceless command. They curled around him, around his blade. They moved with it in one fluid motion, as he turned they turned, as he extended his blade they ran past it. Moving back to their master until they dissipated into the cold night air, oil, blood, and warped metal left in their wake. 

 

Genji fell to his knees, exhausted. Hanzo looked at him as if he had never seen anything like him before. “Who are you?”, he demanded. Genji didn’t answer as he moved to scale the wall and leave this night behind him. He heard another arrow being nocked, he turned to see Hanzo looking hysterical as he stood there about to fire on him. “You will tell me who you are now”, he said, his voice shaking with what Genji suspected was a mixture of disbelief and outrage. “Only the Shimada can achieve what you just did. You will tell me who you are now.” Before he could say anymore or fire his shot, Genji was gone. Fled over the wall and running off into the night. 

 

He didn’t get far before the pain in his arm and his side truly began to slow him down. He stumbled down the street, his thoughts unstable, his breathing irregular as he desperately tried to make his way back to the hotel, to Zenyatta. He fell to the ground, ready to crawl back if he had to. “Genji”, someone cried overhead. That voice, that same melodious voice that he had grown to love so dearly. “Zenyatta”, he breathed as he looked up. There he was, beautiful even under the street lights, sporting the same ochre robes he had first seen him in, radiant as ever. “I’m so thankful I’ve found you”, he said sounding relieved, as he effortlessly pulled him to his feet. Genji cried out as the arrow shifted in his side, Zenyatta looked at his wounds “Genji, what happened?”, he asked, his calm tone wavering with something akin to fear. Genji couldn’t answer him, he was past the point of exhaustion, his mind was too full of thoughts, his mouth had gone dry. “I’ll tell you later”, he said quietly “I’m just happy you’re here.” 

 

Zenyatta’s first task when they arrived back at the hotel was to get Genji laid out on the bed. He felt a stab of guilt, they had only recently laid in this bed after such a nice night together and now Zenyatta was dragging him here as he stained the floor with a mixture of blood and oil. As he laid him out, his back propped against the pillows, he apologized twice for ruining the evening again. Zenyatta wouldn’t hear any of it. “I’m merely thankful that you are not so grievously wounded as to where I can’t help you”, he said setting to work, one of his orbs coming to his side. He felt the arrow head slowly work its way out from underneath his ribs, he gritted his teeth through the pain as it resurfaced and fell to the bed, and the muscle and metal began to neatly work its way back together. They remained in silence as he set another orb at his arm, Genji wasn’t sure he could speak right now if he tried. He was bearing the brunt of too many things, the past, the present, they both felt close to crushing him. Hanzo was alive, he wasn’t leading the clan, he had tried to honor him, harmed him just as he had in the past, and then attempted to save him. And what of the clan? Were they truly back together? It made his stomach churn to think about it. 

 

“You are troubled”, Zenyatta said suddenly. 

 

Genji sighed heavily “I can never hide anything from you can I?”, he asked, a weary smile on his face. 

 

“Nothing so important as this”, Zenyatta answered, as the metal at his elbow began to seemingly weld itself together. “If you’re able I would like to know why you left. Sadly I could not read much of your note, and it was not an enjoyable experience waking up alone.” 

 

“Am I in trouble?”, Genji asked, his tone too flirtatious for being so fatigued. 

 

“Of course not, but I’m still curious as to why you decided to leave.” 

 

Genji laid further back on the pillows, he held out his arm beckoning the monk into his embrace. Zenyatta silently came to him, crowding close, his hand coming to rest on his chest right over the steady rhythm of his heart. “I don’t know if I can talk about it right now”, he said, his voice seeming to catch in his throat, his tongue heavy in his mouth. 

 

“I understand”, Zenyatta said, “May I ask you something else?” 

 

“Alright.”

 

“Would you please stop doing this?” 

 

“Doing what?”

 

“Running off.”

 

“I told you where I was going”, he offered weakly.

 

“True, but if things had gone worse I would not have found you in time. I am not well versed with the city yet.”

 

“GPS?”

 

“Genji, please.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Your apology is accepted”, he said, his tone solemn.

 

“Hey, are you angry with me?”

 

“No”, he sighed “Merely concerned and perhaps a bit dismayed.”

 

“Why is that?”

 

“You have shared much with me on this journey. I suppose I just find it strange that you chose to pursue your suspicions without me.”

 

“I couldn’t take you.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“It is my burden to bear, just mine”, he said wearily. 

 

“You don’t have to bear it alone. I would gladly help shoulder whatever is weighing you down if you’ll permit me.”

 

Genji felt his eyes water “I can’t ask you to do that.”

 

“You haven’t. I am doing it on my own.”

 

“That sounds familiar.”

 

“Yes, it should”, Zenyatta replied, a hint of mirth in his voice.

 

“I don’t want you involved in this.”

 

“I believe that is up for me to decide.”

 

“I can’t let you get hurt”, he said, his voice broken with the idea of that, with what that would mean.

 

“Why do you assume it will be me that gets injured when too often it has been you?”, Zenyatta drew even closer then. “Were it up to me you would never be in harm’s way. But at least if I were with you I could aid you.”

 

Genji looked at him then, he had felt the slight tremor in his grip, the waver of his voice, he noticed the downward tilt of his head and his tensed shoulders. He hadn’t realized until then how much his actions had affected him, too wrapped up with the notion of his duty, obsessively chasing after the dragon's tail. It had been absurd to think that he had to do things alone, hadn’t he been doing that for too long? So why was he still running off? He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’ve been foolish”, he said as he brought his other arm around Zenyatta, nuzzling the top of his head. ”I’m sorry”, he said again, “I told you I’ve been running for a long time. I suppose it’s become my first response, a bad habit. But if I do have to run I don’t have to do it alone anymore.” 

 

Zenyatta shook his head “I believe that apology far outweighs the previous one”, he said lightly. 

 

“So you’re saying you didn’t like the first apology I gave you?”

 

“It had merit, but I prefer this one.” 

 

Genji leaned over slightly so his head was resting on top of Zenyatta’s. He didn’t have the strength to speak anymore, he just pulled Zenyatta close to him as he laid back on the bed with the monk pressed against his side, holding him in his arms. He fell asleep to the gentle chime of his orbs that plunged him into a dreamless slumber, devoid of arrows, astral flames, and the insatiable appetite of the dragons. 

 

Genji woke with Zenyatta still in his arms, his orbs laying dormant, draped over them like a garland. He allowed himself a moment to enjoy this. He had dreamt about this for weeks, to be finally living it was a heady experience. He used his free hand to quickly remove his faceplate and visor and planted a kiss on the top of his head. Zenyatta roused slowly, his orbs circling to life as he kissed his shoulder. “Ah, a most welcome way to wake up”, he chuckled. Genji shuddered, his laugh still did things to him, even now. “It is”, he confessed “Even with this crick in my neck”, he said rubbing his nape for emphasis, overplaying his discomfort in the hopes that Zenyatta would somehow oblige him. 

 

“I believe I can help you with that”, Zenyatta laughed as he slowly got out of his embrace. “Move to the edge of the bed”, he said as Genji quickly obeyed, elated. He felt Zenyatta move behind him “Lean back”, he said softly. Genji obliged him as he felt those cool hands massage along his neck, rolling it gently to one side then the other. Genji sighed in contentment “I feel bad”, he said abruptly. 

 

“Why is that?” 

 

“Because all you’ve been doing is taking care of me. I feel like I haven’t done much for you.” 

 

“You saved my life on the way to the monastery, you showed me your home, you won me that large Pachimari, you confessed your feelings to me, you slept in my arms. You’ve done much for me already Genji.” 

 

“It’s still not enough. Not after everything you’ve done for me”, Genji answered. 

 

“I did not do any of those things seeking repayment, I did them solely because I wanted to. But if you still aren’t satisfied I believe I can devise something else for you to do”, he said, his voice lowering slightly. 

 

“What did you have in mind?”, he asked, more than a little breathless.

 

Zenyatta hummed as he continued to massage along the lines of his neck. “You could help me tidy the room.” 

 

Genji groaned “Must you tease me like this?” 

 

Zenyatta laughed “You were the one who thought I meant something inappropriate. I never implied such a thing”, he said innocently. 

 

“I can’t help that.”

 

“Hm, it's understandable”, he said, finishing massaging his shoulders and coming to sit next to him. Genji draped his arm around his shoulders, the monk leaning into his touch, his mind at peace for the moment.

 

They left Hanamura that afternoon, the events of the previous night still weighing heavily on his mind. Zenyatta didn’t press him to talk about things, but he could read the concern in his stance as he helped Genji pack their bags and they made their way out into the streets. He had been able to stave off those vicious memories for the duration of that morning as he had laid with Zenyatta in bed and they had talked and bantered as they usually did. But as he sat on the train as it made its way out of the station and into the lush countryside he could no longer deny what happened. He couldn’t focus on anything, his mind was a morass of sights, sounds, and heedless feelings. Zenyatta urged him to rest, the ride would be long and he hadn’t gotten much sleep. Genji nodded and leaned against him, trying to put his mind at ease, but it was no use. Flashes of the fight between him and Hanzo came to mind, the sounds of rending metal and wood splintering, mechanical bodies hitting the floor. Hanzo’s crazed look of desolation, the piercing eyes of the dragon, the unearthly roars, their mouths ready to swallow him. He jolted awake just as the train came to a halt at the station, gasping for air. Zenyatta was next to him, trying to steady him. He didn’t understand. Why was he reacting to things this way? Why now? Why wasn’t he past this? He should be dealing with this better, he had been making progress until now.

 

“I’m alright”, he said holding onto Zenyatta’s hand.

 

“Are you certain?”, Zenyatta asked, “Perhaps I should postpone the meeting.” 

 

“No, you don’t need to do that. I’m fine”, he said, trying to reassure him. Zenyatta didn’t look convinced. “I’m fine”, he repeated, feeling as if the tenuous hold he had on his thoughts was slowly slipping through his fingers. 

 

The pair made the rest of the trek on foot. The monastery was nestled against lushly covered mountains with a river skirting around the perimeter. He declined to sit in on the meeting, turning instead to the outdoors, he sat down on the porch looking out over the courtyard, the sounds of the birds momentarily putting him at ease. He was tempted to lay out on his back, he felt drained in body and mind alike. The only thing currently keeping him going was his fervent desire not to worry Zenyatta, his guilt about ruining their night still beating him down. He did end up laying down, trying to let the feeling pass, but it only grew worse. Those feelings building into an insurmountable tidal wave of anguish. Once again the fight came back to him in all its fury. Hanzo’s face snarling at him, the sleek lines of those omnics with their guns raised, the uncontrollable rage of the dragons. He closed his eyes as he rolled to his side. He thought he had been improving. He thought he would be able to handle this better, but he felt close to the edge of that same abyss that he had just recently climbed out of. He grimaced “This is ridiculous”, he thought, waving off the unanswered questions that violently churned in his mind as he tried to will himself to sleep, a momentary respite. 

 

Zenyatta woke him with a gentle prod to his side. Genji rolled over to see the monk kneeling beside him, he got up slowly, forgetting that he had fallen asleep outside. “How did the meeting go?”, he asked.

 

“Very well”, he answered, as Genji sprang to his feet yawning. “I have arranged for us to spend the night here. We will head back to Tokyo tomorrow.” 

 

“Why? We could leave today.”

 

“You need to rest, and trying to push yourself will only exacerbate the problem.”

 

Genji felt a swell of warmth in his chest. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

 

“I didn’t, but I wanted to”, he said warmly, and Genji had to wonder what he did to deserve this as he came forward to hug him. 

 

That night in the monastery reminded Genji of the first time they met. As he laid out on a futon with Zenyatta sitting close by he thought about that day all those months ago. Zenyatta radiant in the midday sun, him the angered ninja on the verge of a breakdown and close to a fatal blow. He remembered being baffled by the monk’s kind nature and willingness to help him despite his horrible attitude. It still baffled him how that chance encounter had led him here. He remembered watching his retreating form, his long stride carrying him down the hallway. He had admired the broadness of his shoulders and the slimness of his waist. Perhaps that’s when his attraction truly began he thought closing his eyes. “Did they give you a separate room?”, he asked suddenly. 

 

“They did, but I do not intend to use it.”

 

“Good”, he answered.

 

Zenyatta fell asleep before he did, laid out on a futon next to him, his orbs chiming until they lapsed into dormancy around the monk’s neck. He tried to will himself to sleep for several long hours, but couldn’t calm his mind. Instead, he decided to visit a place that he hadn’t been to in ages, a verdant landscape replete with fuschia in the corner of his mind. The journey through those vibrant fields brought him to the place where the dragon cloaked himself in a perpetual state of night, its light the only visible thing in that tranquil vista. It took a great deal of effort, but he knew he had made it when the air around him grew warm and dark and there were vibrations all around him. Flowing in from all directions, a low rumble like the sound of far off thunder over the horizon. The dragon’s name had been lost to time long ago but he needed to speak with him directly. To see if he had any insight about Hanzo, the clan, or to why Hanzo’s dragons had disobeyed his call. He had never known his brother to lose control. He had trained for hours each day to make sure they followed his commands, that they became a perfect extension of him and his blade. Their father had always praised him for his level of mastery over those ancient spirits, especially considering his age when they had appeared to him. Hanzo received his dragons at the tender age of 13, the youngest Shimada to be bestowed with their power in nine decades. 

 

Suddenly, a green spark came to life in that dark confine of his mind. He concentrated, willed it to shape itself into the lithe body of the dragon, willed its face to take shape, focused every last bit of energy he had to bring it forth. Until a million other sparks came to join the first, they came together, dazzling like a cluster of stars, compressing themselves down until the light they produced shone brighter than the sun. The outline of the dragon formed itself out of that blinding display, moving and coiling, lengthening out the torso, shaping the legs. The head was the last thing to materialize, its eyes blazing to life as it considered him. “Thank you”, he said in low reverent tones, giving the spirit a bow. Even though they had battled together many times it was still worth it to show him respect. The dragon bowed his head to him, looking expectantly. “I need to ask you about my brother”, he said, not sure if the dragon would even answer him, and if he did would it be an answer he could easily make sense of. The dragon finally spoke in low rumbling tones, his words much clearer than he had ever heard them. 

 

“Your brother’s spirit is wayward. He walks along dark paths, bridled with asphodel and wormwood. Slipping further down, to his ruination.” 

 

Genji felt a full body shiver run through him at the dragon's words. His mind turning to his mother’s voice as she had arranged flowers one bright summer afternoon. Asphodel; my regret follows you to the grave. But he couldn’t recollect the meaning for wormwood, but obviously, the path Hanzo was walking was not one that would lead him to a higher plane. Just a low and barren landscape where nothing grew, and the parched and desolate ground bore only weeds and a thicket of brambles and spiny thorns. “What about your brothers then?”, he asked, referring to those azure twins with melancholy eyes. The dragon if possible looked concerned, a great plume of smoke coiling from the sides of his mouth, curling around Genji and then being blown away by his words. “Their strength has grown, but so has their bloodlust. It has left them savage, enraged, unable to heed their master’s call.” Genji thought back to the look of anger on Hanzo’s face as he had called for them to stop their attack. He had to wonder why his hold on them was slipping. “The reason is not beyond your grasp”, the dragon answered, fixing him with its intense gaze. Genji had forgotten that the dragon was privy to his thoughts in this space, the connection worked both ways but the dragon rarely had any thoughts he could easily hear, his mind laid completely still. His own mind was never that calm. It resembled more of a roaring waterfall as opposed to the dragon’s placid lake. It had been part of the reason why returning here had been so difficult and with the events of the other night the din of that swirling water had only grown worse until it became deafening. Was his brother experiencing something like that? 

 

“He is in conflict”, the dragon answered. “Over what?”, Genji asked. The dragon didn’t speak, he could feel his presence slowly slip away from him as his agitation over his brother grew. The dragon dissipated into a thin veil of greenish smoke that slowly moved until it was out of sight, leaving him alone amongst a dimly lit field of white camellias. Genji slowly opened his eyes to survey the room. Zenyatta was still laying on the futon opposite him, still sleeping as peacefully as ever. He had never considered that perhaps Hanzo was also suffering. He had always assumed that his brother had been able to move past what he did. That he had been right to strike Genji down and leave him there, that his death was preferable to what he was doing to their family’s honor, that he had deserved to die. But looking at Hanzo’s face the confusion, the anger, the dark circles marring the skin underneath his eyes, spoke volumes for a life of anguish and uncertainty that he had until just recently been living. It had never occurred to him that Hanzo would try to cast aside his birthright and the only life he knew as recompense for what he did. That he would try to honor him, that he would try to seek out redemption. What did he do with that knowledge? He didn’t know. He couldn’t make sense of it, it only served to make his headache and his stomach twist in knots. He instead tried to fall back asleep just as the early morning light began to spill into the room. 

 

The trip back to Tokyo seemed to be much shorter. He wasn’t sure what the exact reason for that was, but decided to simply blame it on the daze he currently seemed to be living in. As they checked into their hotel and made the slow trek to their room, sadly not as lavish as the first, he truly realized that he was incredibly adept at denial and sequestering away his problems. The first trait shouldn’t have been a surprise. He had denied for many months that things had changed after his mother’s death, he had avoided all mentions of his father’s illness as he had laid sick and dying in his bed, and he had deflected bullets as well as inquiries as to how he was faring after his surgery. So it should have come as no surprise when Zenyatta asked him if he was feeling alright and he quickly answered “Yes”, and had gone on to talk about other things. What bewildered him was that he knew he could tell Zenyatta how he was feeling. He had proven on multiple occasions to be understanding and wise to a fault, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t bring himself to break the silence. Zenyatta hadn’t pressed him for any more information of what happened that night, he just seemed elated that Genji wasn’t gravely wounded. He was glad for it too but knew sooner or later he would have to tell him what happened. But too often he found his tongue immobile in his mouth, his fear of concerning the monk weighing him down nearly as much as the strange events of that night. 

 

It was just another bad habit that he had yet to break. His father’s voice came to him suddenly “You’d rather suffer in silence.” He had to concede to that, he was essentially doing it now to try to spare Zenyatta from worrying. But also he knew from past experience that he was just not proficient at talking about the things that truly bothered him, the things that really mattered. “I’ll tell him when we get back to the monastery”, he thought, as he leaned against the monk with a tired sigh. “Were you able to get any sleep?”, Zenyatta asked as he slipped off his visor and faceplate. 

 

“No”, he answered, his voice slightly hoarse. 

 

Zenyatta hummed “I am concerned about you”, he confessed. “I fear what happened has taken a greater toll on you than what you’re allowing me to see.”

 

“That’s not true.” 

 

“You haven’t slept well in 2 days. I understand if it is difficult for you to talk about what happened. But I trust you know I am here to listen whenever you are ready”, Zenyatta said, holding his hand. 

 

Genji looked down to Zenyatta’s hand in his, still able to admire the slimness of his fingers and the soothing coolness of his palm “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you”, he said warmly, mildly dismayed.

 

“I have thought the same about you”, he answered, as he massaged along Genji’s palm, bringing it to his faceplate to lay a kiss there and then turning it over to kiss along the curves of his knuckles. Genji sighed, the effort it was taking to keep up his facade of well-being draining him, he finally relented after a short exhalation. 

 

“I’ve been foolish”, he said. 

 

“Genji-” 

 

“No, I have been. I should have never left you here, there wasn't anything out there for me”, he said, as Zenyatta beckoned him into a hug. He came into his embrace quickly, laying his head on the monk’s shoulder. 

 

“From what I could read of your note it mentioned you had a strange dream, what was it about?”

 

“My brother’s dragons.” 

 

Zenyatta made a thoughtful noise “Has that happened before?” 

 

“No, never.” 

 

“And so you came to the conclusion that it meant that there was something more to your suspicions about that man in the park.” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“What did you find?”

 

“I found him. The man. He was there, guarding the gate. I finally got a thorough look at his tattoo, just as I had thought it was the dragon. I tried to get some information out of him, but he refused to talk so I proceeded to look around. The castle was just the same as when I was younger, it hadn’t changed at all”, he said, his tone wistful, painfully nostalgic, his breath speeding up. Zenyatta seemed to sense his agitation as he massaged along the lines of his spine. 

 

“I hadn’t expected things to be so...unchanged. I even found my old possessions still in the room where I left them. Though I’m still not entirely sure if the clan has reformed, but if they have they’re using omnics as part of their muscle.’ 

 

“What?” 

 

“I know, I saw them. They tried to attack Hanzo and I.” 

 

“Your brother was there as well?”

 

“He was”, and then events of the night really hit him. The excruciating weight of seeing Hanzo, the harrowing reminder of a past he thought he had escaped. They all bore down on him now, so heavily that they threatened to drag him down to that dark abyssal plane of his mind. He clung to Zenyatta as if he were a lifeline, hugging him close, burying his face into his shoulder. 

 

“Genji, are you alright?”, he asked. 

 

“No”, he answered, his voice cracking. He had managed to hold back the onslaught of anger and hopeless sadness for the duration of the night, but now he couldn’t bear it anymore. “He was there with incense to honor me.” 

 

Zenyatta looked contemplative “He doesn’t know you’re alive?”

 

“There is no reason for him to. He was the one who tried to murder me.” 

 

Zenyatta went still “What? But you told me-” 

 

“I know, I lied, I’m sorry”, he said quickly, his apology coming out in one quick breath. “I’m sorry”, he repeated, his voice gone hoarse with the force of that emotion.“I should have told you the truth. I wanted to tell you but-”, he closed his eyes, suddenly overcome with a weariness that ran too deep to fathom. He felt Zenyatta gently caressing the top of his head, a welcome method of soothing him.

 

“I understand why you did not. The pain is still too fresh”, Zenyatta said, his tone somber. 

 

Genji nodded, trying to keep the words coming, trying to sort out his thoughts. “I hadn’t expected to see him there. But I thought if I was going to run into him he would be wearing a suit, leading the clan. But instead he was in a kyudo-gi and he’s defected.” Zenyatta didn’t respond, the arm around his middle rubbing his back gently as if to encourage him to keep speaking.

 

“I didn’t know what to do when I saw him. A million things ran through my head. I had thought about what I would do if I ever saw him again for years now, obsessed over it. How I would get my revenge, make him suffer. I thought that would be the only thing I would want to do. But instead I just stood there, I had thought about killing him but with that came thoughts of yelling at him, hugging him, or just trying to talk to him”, he confessed, his hold on Zenyatta only tightening.

 

“I wanted to talk to him back then. I wanted to tell him the real reason I was gone so much was because I couldn’t stand seeing father dying before my eyes. I wanted to ask him if there were some other way, I wanted to know why he was going through with it. Why hadn’t he tried to talk to me first? Why did it have to be submission or death? But I was too stupid to comply. I could have just agreed to what he asked of me, we could have made some other arrangement.” 

 

“Genji.” 

 

“I was too stubborn to change. I didn’t want to. But maybe if I had made an effort, maybe if I hadn’t been so out of control things would have been different.” 

 

“Genji, you can’t blame yourself for this. It is impossible to know the outcome if things had gone differently.” 

 

“I know!”, and then softer apologetic “I know. I’m sorry. But I can’t help but think about it. The whole thing doesn’t make any sense to me. Hanzo tried to kill me, yet there he was totally separate from the clan, trying to honor me. It never occurred to me that he might be suffering too. He looked so hopeless.” Tears came to him then, they streamed down his face before he could fight them back. He felt a sadness so deep and so all-encompassing that it became a physical pain, one he could not easily shake off. 

 

“I had never seen him like that”, he said, his voice catching. “I don’t understand it. I never understood how he could go through with it. He murders me only to leave the clan? Then what was the point? Why did we both have to go through this?”, and then softly, brokenly “I didn’t want this.” He had almost collapsed to the floor with that bereaved declaration, Zenyatta somehow effortlessly supporting him. The sudden release of years of pent-up anguish and sadness nearly overwhelming him. But it didn’t stop there. The words kept coming, feverish and aching, leaping off his tongue, his breathing becoming more frenzied and shallow. 

 

“I wanted to hate him, I wanted to destroy him like he had destroyed me. But I couldn’t do it. When I saw him I realized that even after everything he’s done to me, everything that was said; he’s still my brother and I still care about him. It doesn’t make any sense, how can I still care about Hanzo? This was the same man that tried to kill me. But when I looked at him, I didn’t see the face of a killer I saw the same hopelessness in his eyes that I saw in my own. Until I met you life didn’t seem to be worth living, death seemed preferable. But now I am grateful to be here”, he said warmly, somehow pulling Zenyatta even closer. “If I hadn’t had your help I would be the same as him, perhaps worse off. I had fooled myself into thinking that what he did never phased him but I suppose we’ve both been suffering, he’s just been bearing it alone”, he said trying to wipe the tears from his eyes. Zenyatta’s fingers were there first, gently brushing them from his face. 

 

“I shouldn’t have left.” 

 

“Perhaps not in the way you did, but I think it might have been necessary for you to face him.” 

 

“Why do you say that?” 

 

“You have been hanging onto that hatred for your brother for a long time. Far longer than is healthy. Now that you’ve seen him as he is, it may be easier for you to begin to forgive him.”

 

“I don’t think I can...not yet anyway.” 

 

“It will take time.” 

 

Genji sighs “Why does everything have to take so long?”, he groused. 

 

“Perhaps you are just impatient.” 

 

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this sooner.” 

 

“You have already made amends. There is no need to apologize further. I believe I understand why you did not tell me right away, the pain still weighs on you heavily.” 

 

“It does. It shouldn’t though”, he said with a scowl. 

 

“Why not? You have been through much, far more than most people. It is quite understandable that it still affects you this way.”

 

“I guess, but that’s what’s also been bothering me. I can’t continue this way, constantly living in the past. I want to be able to move forward, to have a clear mind. But I need you to help me.” 

 

Zenyatta kissed him gently, cool fingers massaging along the sides of his neck. “I would be happy to”, he said warmly. Genji wasted no time in returning the kiss, a heady sense of relief washing over him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zenyatta and Genji both have some tough decisions to make.

Contrary to what he might have thought, the trek back to Nepal felt like returning home. Those steep hillsides sparsely vegetated with shrubs and lichen brought a kind of wordless joy that at one time only the beauty of the cherry blossoms could evoke in him. The scent of the rhododendron forest brought memories of the first time Zenyatta had been close to him and he had felt that strange and insistent urge to move forward and keep him close. That incessant desire to lay kisses upon those cool hands and satisfy those insatiable urges that he thought had been lost to him. 

 

This trip back to the monastery was perhaps the best so far, as he could finally act on his desires and satisfy his need for intimacy. Zenyatta was always happy to oblige him it seemed, whether they were kissing in the dim light of those quiet rooms in guest houses, or merely holding hands. But Genji always felt a certain thrill every time the monk initiated contact between them. Usually, simple gestures like a quick and thorough back massage inexplicably turned into moments where Genji found himself on his back with Zenyatta hovering over him. Only a hint of uncertainty in his voice as he laid kisses along his neck and his nimble fingers found those hidden spots of sensitivity along his body which left him shaking and gasping with need faster that he thought possible. 

 

But just as he learned about those new planes of his anatomy, Zenyatta also taught him about the long and oftentimes arduous process of meditation. They had started the morning after Genji had asked him for help and Zenyatta had woken him with a gentle prod to his side. He had yawned loudly, rolling over to look at the clock only to see that it was 6 in the morning.

 

“Is this payback for all those times I woke you up?”, he asked, his voice still thick with fatigue. 

 

“Not at all”, Zenyatta replied amicably “It is just best to get an early start.” 

 

“Does it have to be this early?”, Genji asked, as he begrudgingly got out of bed and joined Zenyatta down on the floor to begin meditation. His first attempt didn’t go well. Draconic roars and the haunted eyes of his brother didn’t seem conducive for a clear head space, but he tried nonetheless. After 2 hours with no success, he finally gave up and attempted to coax Zenyatta back into bed with him only to be informed that it was getting late and they should be heading out. Things continued in that way for the next 3 days with Genji trying to clean out a lifetime's worth of mental refuse, trying to find clear paths through labyrinthine twists and turns of bad memories and old wounds that had never been properly cared for. He knew it would take time, but it was still frustrating to him that he couldn’t grasp something so simple. Zenyatta seemed to sense his agitation and they postponed meditation in favor of simply talking. 

 

It proved hard at first. His tendency to put aside his concerns and mask his worries under a thick and glossy layer of overconfidence and humor was still strong, and it took time for him to unloose his tongue over the matters of his past. But eventually, he was able to do it. He spoke about his father; the clan’s leader for over 30 years, his reign cut short by illness and the stress of a life running deals with corrupt men. His love for the onsen, a serious man who’s sense of humor lied in his wife, someone who had spent long hours trying to cultivate the perfect aquarium in his study and had secretly loved chocolate regardless of what he told his subordinates. He spoke of his mother; the free spirit. The original source of mischief in their home, someone who had most likely missed her calling in comedy. Her gentle smile one afternoon as she had arranged flowers in the living room only for her face to suddenly go pale and toss the vase across the room and watch as it smashed against the wall. The remains of two bees serving as an explanation for her move and why there were shards of ceramic littered across the floor. 

 

Hanzo; and this is where the words became thick with an emotion he couldn’t easily name. Their time growing up, sharing a room, waking him up in the middle of the night to tell him a story after a particularly bad nightmare, those years after their mother’s sudden passing. How Hanzo had tried to fill the role she left behind in some small capacity and look after him as their father left behind certain paternal duties in favor of his grief. How eventually he took Hanzo with him as his health began to fail and he was left alone to cope. Trying to fill the void left in their place with hard liquor and good company. He told Zenyatta of the rift that began to widen between them until eventually, they were so far apart that to cross the distance seemed impossible. He told him in small bits and pieces about the night of his murder, in choking sobs some nights, and in grave and somber tones on others. Zenyatta never pressed him, he only brought him into a tight embrace, whispering words of encouragement and affection. Soothing him with tender touches, as if to make up for all the bleak and desolate moments of his life. 

 

Even those stolen moments he had spent pressed between his lover’s body and the sheets of his bed paled in comparison to the love and understanding he found entwined in Zenyatta’s arms. It made him wonder how their relationship would unfold behind the walls of the monastery. He brought it up to Zenyatta the night before they were supposed to be returning there as he laid out under the blankets with the monk nuzzled against him. “I suppose I should try to get in as many kisses as I can now. Who knows how the others will react”, he said, kissing the top of his head. 

 

“The most you will hear is some mild teasing from the others. The worst of it will come from my brother”, Zenyatta said, sounding amused. 

 

“I think I can handle that.” 

 

“You will have to, at least for a few months.” 

 

“Is romance not encouraged amongst the Shambali?”, he asked suddenly. 

 

“It is not discouraged. Though I’m sure there are some of my brothers who still wouldn’t agree to such a thing. Personally, I never saw anything wrong with displays of love or affection.” 

 

“Clearly”, Genji said, teasingly.

 

Zenyatta laughed lightly. “We wished to experience all aspects of life. To live a life devoid of love and empathy was something that was expected of us because of what we are. But such things were never foreign to us, and despite what some of my brothers might say there is no reason to deny such feelings.”

 

“Well that’s good, I wouldn’t want to break your rules.” 

 

“You wouldn’t? The same man who went behind the Shambali leader’s back to install turrets in a peaceful monastery?” 

 

Genji laughed “Alright, I wouldn’t want to break any more rules. I guess it just comes naturally to me”, he said with a shrug. 

 

“Clearly”, Zenyatta echoed with a chuckle, as Genji pulled him closer. 

 

He was content in that moment, even though he still had those thoughts of his tense confrontation with Hanzo circling around his head. Those thoughts seemed to be at their strongest as it grew dark. As Zenyatta slipped off to sleep, to rest in dreams that were unfathomable to his organic mind and he was left awake, contemplating what had led Hanzo to their ancestral home with his acrid incense and the sparrow’s feather. What had made him give up the sword and take up the bow? What had driven him to disown the clan and abandon all he had worked for to keep their father’s legacy alive? He had an inkling of the answer but didn’t dare to acknowledge it any further. Suddenly and begrudgingly, he found himself overcome with a fierce and insolent sympathy for his brother. A feeling which threw a cold deluge over the still burning coals of his rancor, snuffing them out, until there was nothing left but a cold and bitter pity. 

 

He had to wonder how long Hanzo had been suffering. Was it recent? Or had it been since that night in the castle? That awful night when he had tossed aside all feelings for the sake of honor and duty. He wasn’t sure and as much as he hated to admit it he could feel himself slowly beginning to care. It was a strange feeling. He had been holding onto that hatred for so long that he almost felt lost as it gradually began to slip away from him. 

 

“That’s excellent”, Zenyatta said the next morning, as they made their way up the mountainside. 

 

“What? The fact that I feel lost?”

 

“No, the fact that you are letting those negative feelings go. You gain nothing from hating others. It is always difficult to excuse those who have truly wronged you, but there is freedom in forgiveness.”

 

“I don’t know if I’ve forgiven him yet.” 

 

“I would never assume that you did so quickly. But it is good to see you making the effort”, Zenyatta said warmly as Genji continued to follow him along the trail. His eyes roved over the far off peaks of the mountains covered with snow, slow moving clouds floating across their slopes. He absently wondered where his brother was and what he might be doing now.

 

Suman was the first to greet them. He was once again washing the bell, his back bent in contemplation of a spot that seemed to be giving him ample amounts of trouble, his hand plunging down into his bucket. He noticed them just as they were making their way up the steps, and threw down his rag to hug them both. 

 

“I see you aren’t receiving any supervision today”, Zenyatta said, his tone mirthful. 

 

“I guess I’ve proven myself”, Suman replied with a brief shrug. 

 

Zenyatta slipped off shortly after that brief reunion to talk with one of his pupils who had a long list of questions for him. Genji’s gaze followed him for a moment as he offered to help with the cleaning, but Suman declined. “It’s no problem”, he said, waving him off. Genji leaned against one of the wooden support beams, he feels his mind already lapsing back into routine, a welcome distraction from the noise in his head. 

 

“So how did it go?”, Suman asked suddenly, kneeling down to clean the bell’s rim. 

 

“The trip? Ah, pretty well”, he answered. 

 

“No, I don’t mean the trip. I meant how did things go with brother Zenyatta?” 

 

Genji sputtered in disbelief “What?”, he asked, desperately trying to keep his voice down. 

 

“Come on, it’s obvious. Everyone knows.”

 

“Everyone knows”, he uttered softly, completely flummoxed. 

 

“Well most of us know”, he corrected, tilting his head slightly “Did you really think you were being tactful?”, he asked curiously. 

 

“I honestly thought I was”, Genji replied, shaking his head “Until he told me otherwise.” 

 

“Ah, I see”, Suman said, sounding elated “So did you tell him how you feel?” 

 

“You certainly are invested in this.” 

 

“Of course, I care about both of you. I would like to see you happy.”

 

Genji didn’t know what to say to that, he wasn’t used to such honesty. He was used to fake smiles and laughs that hid deeper hurts and unspoken feelings. He scratched the back of his head, suddenly a little bashful. “Yes, I did tell him”, he said, feeling his face warm up. 

 

Suman clapped him on the back so hard he almost stumbled. “Thank goodness”, he said with a laugh. “It was starting to get depressing seeing you flirt to no avail.”

 

“Hey, obviously it wasn’t”, he said smugly. 

 

“Even so it was still pretty sad to watch”, Suman said teasingly, turning back to his work. 

 

Genji had not expected to see Zenyatta until late in the evening. He was trying to find a suitable spot for the large, still unnamed Pachimari, that he had gifted Zenyatta back in Hanamura when the monk suddenly appeared in the doorway. 

 

“I see our friend is in good hands”, he said warmly, as he walked inside and took a seat on the bed. 

 

Genji turned, almost tempted to run to him and lift him into a hug, the past few hours had seemed so long in his absence. Instead, he settled for giving him a quick kiss as he sat next to him “Not that I’m complaining, but I’m surprised you’re back so soon.” 

 

“Of course, you are one of my pupils after all.”

 

“Ah, right”, he paused “Should I refer to you as master like the others do?”, he asked.

 

“You may call me whatever you wish”, Zenyatta said amiably, moving to a spot on the floor and gesturing for him to do the same.

 

Genji silently joined him on the floor, mirroring Zenyatta’s lotus position. He lapsed into the ritual of meditation easily by now. He closed his eyes, inhaled through his nose, exhaled through his mouth, and tried to focus on that subtle rhythm of his body. Let his mind recede into that quiet space he knew was there, that space that was tied up in a morass of restless thoughts and memories. Genji remembered Zenyatta’s words the first time they had attempted this; to acknowledge his thoughts should they come, to let them wash over him like a wave, not to hold on to them. He hadn’t had much success thus far and today seemed to be going in much the same vein as he thought about where Hanzo might be, the sound of mangled circuitry, the question of the clan’s status. Zenyatta, either by some strange instinct or simply by virtue of knowing him so well spoke up suddenly. “Let those thoughts pass through your mind. Focus on your breath, not on what was or what might have been.” 

 

Genji sighed, taking a deep shuddering breath that felt like he was inhaling water rather than air. He tried to focus, tried to heed Zenyatta’s words as he imagined those treacherous thoughts as a swell of the ocean. Those mercurial recollections flooded each available corner of his mind, threatening to overwhelm him. By now the swell had grown into a massive tidal wave, clear and blue, rising far above him and then surging down to whisk him into its monstrous embrace. He welcomes it. He grows still as he tries to brace himself, he focuses on his breathing, the low sound of his pulse in his ears, the faint sound of Zenyatta’s hardware. They help to ground him, steadying him for the impact. It comes harsh and cold like the waters of the Pacific. Faces whirl past, thoughts, feelings, names, colors, they all rush past in a flurry of erratic motion, and then just as quickly as they came they pass. His mind is clear for the first time in months, maybe years. He slumps forward with the weight of what's happened. He feels Zenyatta’s hand on his shoulder, bracing him as he lets out a long quaking sigh. 

 

“What happened? Are you alright?”, Zenyatta asked, as Genji slowly sits up. 

 

“I am”, he breathes, fixing his gaze on Zenyatta, a heady sense of joy overtaking him. “My mind is clear”, he said, with a kind of wonder and awe he thought had only been regulated to his childhood. 

 

“Wonderful”, Zenyatta exclaimed, elated “I am so happy for you Genji.” 

 

“Thank you”, he said softly, edging forward until he had pulled Zenyatta into a tight embrace. His limbs shaking with that release of emotions, his eyes suddenly glassy with tears as he clung to the monk, uttering soft words of gratitude like an impassioned mantra.

 

Meditation in the days that followed came easier to him. Those turbulent waves of thoughts and recollections began to slowly smooth out, until that ocean he had imagined looked like panes of smooth and frosted glass. Times where that peace of mind came easily and he would sigh as if he were putting down decades worth of burdens that he had been carrying for far longer. But there were still times where his thoughts overwhelmed him, and Zenyatta would lead him outside so he could work through his feelings by physical means. On those days he urged him to not get discouraged “One misstep cannot make you stumble the entire day”, he would say, as Genji would berate himself. Those were the days where he felt compelled to lure Zenyatta into sparring with him and they did on a few occasions, choosing one of the high cliffs that overlooked the monastery. Not concerned with the cold they had moved around each other in a kind of cathartic rhythm. Genji would quickly go on the offensive, he had no intent to harm just to knock Zenyatta off balance. He found it difficult, though, the monk was adept at evasion, side stepping him and easily slipping out of holds. On one such occasion after Genji had spent an hour hitting the snow trying to get his mentor off kilter he finally managed to knock Zenyatta off his feet, only to catch him a moment later from falling on his back. As they decided to take a brief respite from their training he asked Zenyatta why they were confined to spar on this bluff rather than down in the courtyard. 

 

“My brother does not condone such things”, Zenyatta answered simply, sitting on the cliff’s edge. 

 

“So, he’d rather allow people to attack him?” 

 

“No, but he would prefer not to retaliate. He’d rather things be settled by less violent means.” 

 

Genji still had a hard time trying to wrap his mind around that. Back when he was still in training he was always first to strike, first to run into a situation brandishing his sword, ready to hit first and ask questions later. But as his father had told him once after a particularly bad bout that had left him with a broken leg and his sparring partner in the hospital; “You can’t get answers from corpses.” He had learned from that bout, but he would by no means consider himself a pacifist.

 

“That’s still a hard concept for me to understand”, he confessed. 

 

“A sentiment we both share”, Zenyatta answered “I never saw any merit in laying down when people are so adamantly attacking you. Sadly, not all conflicts can be resolved with simple words or kind gestures. But unfortunately, we cannot see eye to eye on every issue.”

 

“There is no way you can”, Genji said simply with a shrug. 

 

Zenyatta regarded him silently. “You are right my dear pupil”, he said warmly “We are both individuals. To think that we would never disagree is a dangerous notion, one that often leads to miscommunication and worse arguments. As much as I would hope for a lack of conflict between us it is simply a fact of life. One we all must accept.” 

 

Genji nodded as Zenyatta rested a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you”, he said warmly.

 

“For what?”

 

“For listening to me. I know you have your own burdens to bear so I appreciate you listening to my musings.”

 

“That’s the least I can do, after everything you’ve done for me, master”, he said, the words slipping off his tongue easily. 

 

Zenyatta turned to look at him again. Genji looked back “What? Should I not call you that?” 

 

“No, you’ve just never referred to me that way before. I suppose I was just surprised.” 

 

“Don’t be”, Genji answered “You deserve that title. You’ve taught me a lot already.” 

 

“I am merely acting as a guide.” 

 

“Even so”, he pressed “You’ve done so much for me. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay you.” 

 

“I would not ask you to. All I would ask is that you continue on the path you’ve set for yourself.” 

 

“Which path is that?” 

 

“The path you are taking to accept yourself as you are. The path where you have peace of mind, where your spirit is calm. The path where you remain with me.” 

 

“I would never want to do anything else”, he replied softly. “There is no other path for me”, Genji said pulling him into a hug, kissing the top of his head and Zenyatta kissed the side of his face in return. They didn’t remain there long after that short exchange, Zenyatta had his other students to attend to and some of the monks had insisted he tell them some more stories about his days with Overwatch. They made the steep climb down in contented silence, as the afternoon light began to fade and the lengthening shadow of the cliff slowly crept over the monastery.

\---

He was standing underneath a pink and purple hued sky amidst a vast sea of blue hydrangeas. Each one of their petals was swept up by a warm breeze, those blooms coalescing into an s-shaped curve that moved and undulated through the air until it formed two familiar faces. Those cerulean twins with their eyes devoid of that berserker fury, they regarded him with a steady gaze that belied nothing save for their focus. He found his tongue turned to lead in his mouth, he didn’t know the mechanics of this encounter. Was this merely a dream? Or was this like the mindscape he traversed to speak with his own dragon? Either way, he couldn’t bring himself to speak, the words had died in his throat. He sunk to his knees, out of exhaustion or some innate sense of reverence he wasn’t sure. As they moved towards him he flinched, they stopped to watch him as he made an effort to relax before gently coiling around him like a great snake. They then slipped away, dissipating into a flurry of gleaming scales that resembled a mass of brightly polished sapphires that were then suddenly lost over the horizon. All that was left in their place was the man, all that was left was Hanzo. 

 

He sprang to his feet so quickly he was almost thrown off balance. Hanzo said nothing, he merely turned his back to him and began walking in the opposite direction. Before he could think he was sprinting after him as Hanzo grew further away. He tried to speed up but he looked down to see that his steps were slowed by a dark mass of briar. Despite that, he found himself desperate to catch up. Those brambles threatening to engulf him and pull him down further, he was already waist deep in them, ignoring their sting as he finally broke free of their hold. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him until abruptly he had to stop. There was a wide and caliginous chasm before him, Hanzo was somehow on the other side, still walking blindly forward into a desolate landscape where vermillion serpents crept along the ground. He felt sick suddenly, trying to see if he could make the distance. But before he could attempt to leap across he woke up, filled with nervous energy, gasping for breath and shivering in a cold sweat. At one time habit would have dictated that after such a dream he would run out into the night to dispel this nervous energy. If this were a few months ago he would have done it, he would have given himself over completely to those urgent feelings that had made him want to crawl out of his skin and chase after promises of relief. But instead, he simply went next door and gently woke Zenyatta. The monk looked over to him, still laid out on his back ‘“What’s wrong?”, Zenyatta asked sleepily.

 

“I had another dream about my brother’s dragons.” 

 

“They seem to be becoming more frequent”, Zenyatta commented thoughtfully. 

 

“Yes...it seemed fairly literal.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“I was standing in a field of hydrangeas, so many that they stretched in every direction. Their petals blew into the air and formed into his dragons, they coiled around me and then suddenly disappeared and in their place was Hanzo. He didn’t speak to me he just turned and walked away, I tried to follow after him but I was unable to.”

 

“Why was that?” 

 

“These thorns blocked my path. Then right as I was about to catch up to him a large chasm formed between us, I was going to attempt to jump across it when I woke up.” 

 

Zenyatta looked contemplative. “So what do you think it means?”, Genji asked, feeling a brief surge of impatience. 

 

“What do you suppose it means?”, Zenyatta asked as he sat up, his orbs slowly spreading out around him.

 

“I asked you first.”

 

“I suppose the simplest explanation is that there is still a great deal of physical as well as emotional distance between you. You said you were running after him in your dream?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Did you ever imagine that you would want to do that after everything that's happened between you?” 

 

“No.” 

 

“But you were unable to follow him freely?”

 

“Yes. So I guess my dream is the conflict I’m feeling?”

 

“I would imagine so. You saw that your brother is in need of guidance and you wish to help him, but you still have many feelings to work out over the matter.” 

 

“I doubt my brother would want any form of guidance from me or anyone else.” 

 

“Ah, he’s stubborn then?”

 

“Yes, ridiculously so.”

 

“Regardless, no one is the past the point of help.” 

 

“Even those who don’t want help?” 

 

“That does it make more difficult, but it is not out of the realm of possibility.”

 

“I don’t see how you can be so optimistic all the time.”

 

“It is not always an easy endeavor, but the alternative seems far less preferable”, he said, his orbs circling him in a sluggish arc. 

 

Genji sighed “I’m sorry, I didn’t need to wake you up for something like this.” 

 

“The fact that you woke me at all means that you did”, he said, his hand caressing the side of Genji’s face “There is nothing wrong with how you feel. I hope in the future you will accept that as well”, he said gently. Genji nuzzled his face into the touch, kissing his palm. 

 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

 

“About your brother?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

Zenyatta hummed thoughtfully “What would you want to do?” 

 

Genji sighed again, a temporary ache working its way through his torso, his limbs, and settling in his chest. “A large part of me wants to leave him be”, he said as Zenyatta’s hand travels down his neck to his shoulder and then comes to rest in his open palm. “But then I also feel like I should try to find him, wherever he is.” 

 

“What would you do if you found him?”, Zenyatta asked, intertwining their fingers together.

 

“I’m not sure”, he said “I can’t say I wouldn’t want to fight him again but-”, he cuts himself off remembering the dream, the reticent words of the dragon, the bleak look in his brother’s eyes. “I think he needs help. I don’t think he’d accept it from me. But if I found him I could try to convince him to get some form of guidance.” 

 

“I think that is an excellent idea Genji. I am proud of you.” 

 

“Why?”

 

“Because just a few short months ago you would have never suggested such a thing. Considering all that you’ve detailed to me; if you were to find Hanzo it would be an avenue to exact your revenge. The fact that you are considering helping him at all speaks volumes for your progress.” 

 

Genji looked away, humbled by his words “I can’t guarantee that I won’t try to fight him again when I see him.” 

 

“I know.” 

 

“I don’t know what I’ll do.” 

 

“There is no way to know until you are in the moment.” 

 

“I don’t know where to even start looking.” 

 

“I believe the best place to start is the last place you saw him.” 

 

“What if he won’t accept my help?” 

 

Zenyatta went silent for a moment. “Then you will support him until he is ready and able to do so.”

 

After their talk Genji reluctantly went back to his room and laid out on the bed. He drifted off to sleep easier than he thought, his dreams devoid of his brother or his dragons.The following afternoon Genji was helping a small group of monks clean a particularly dusty chamber when he heard Zenyatta call him. He quickly excused himself and joined him on the other end of the courtyard. “You needed me, master?”, he asked as Zenyatta nodded.

 

“Yes, it seems that my brother wishes to speak with the both of us.” 

 

Genji steeled himself, for what he wasn’t sure. But he remembered the turrets shining in the rafters, hidden in some of the more remote corners of the monastery, gleaming like tiny jewels. He followed closely behind Zenyatta who seemed unperturbed by what the meeting might mean. They came to his brother’s quarters quickly, Mondatta was already inside, sitting at a low table with his fingers steepled in front of him. The crumpled remains of a turret sat on the table before him, gleaming like a pinprick of alabaster in the soft lamplight of the room. Genji had been holding his breath waiting for some kind of verbal sparring to occur. But he had to remind himself of where he was, this was not a confrontation between the Shimada brothers. There was no place for harsh words and vehement yelling here he realized, as Zenyatta stood still next to him awaiting his brother’s words. “Prem found this earlier this morning while cleaning the rafters”, he said finally “I assume that there are more?”, he asked, glancing between them. 

 

Zenyatta was the first to answer “There are.” 

 

Mondatta leaned back as if he were surprised but his voice remained steady. “How long have they been there?” 

 

“A few weeks”, Zenyatta replied simply. 

 

“And who put them there?” 

 

“I did”, Genji said firmly.

 

Mondatta observed him silently. “How long have you known about this brother?”, he asked, turning to Zenyatta. 

 

“The entire time”, Zenyatta answered, “It was at my request that they were put there.”

 

Mondatta didn’t speak for long moments. Genji wasn’t sure what was about to happen, had this been him and Hanzo the conversation would have already devolved into a shouting match. But Mondatta was perfectly still, he had yet to even raise his voice. 

 

“Genji, may I speak with my brother in private?”, he asked. 

 

Genji looked to Zenyatta who gave him a quick nod. He nodded back and made his way out into the hallway, but he remained by the door, within earshot. 

 

“I would have never expected this from you.” 

 

“Are you referring to barricading you in your room? I believe I have done that before.” 

 

“Stop, you know what I’m referring to. I had asked you to respect my wishes in this matter and then you deliberately go behind my back.” 

 

“I understand why you didn’t want to go through with this course of action brother. But I thought it in everyone’s best interest that the monastery has these turrets.” 

 

“And I told you why I didn’t want them. We still receive news crews here on occasion, many of them looking for some sign of unrest or a scandal. What if they saw something like this?” 

 

“And I told you that the safety of everyone here is far more important than a week of bad press.”

 

“Brother, what do you believe I’m trying to do? I’m trying to protect everyone from some misbegotten attack from paranoid people who would see the act of installing turrets as a potential act of aggression. Enough of a justification for them to come here and carry out what they would see as justice.” 

 

“The paranoia lies with you brother. There was already an attack about to be made by Talon all those weeks ago. That is why I did this, that is why I do not regret it. It is better to be safe from a real threat than an imagined one.” 

 

“You feel no regret at all?” 

 

“No.” 

 

“Even for doing this behind my back? Lying to me?”

 

“I do regret that it happened this way, and I am truly sorry for lying to you. But if it means keeping our brothers safe I would do it again.” 

 

There was a pregnant pause followed by a long and weary sigh. “So what does this mean?”, Mondatta asked quietly. 

 

“I’m not certain”, Zenyatta answered hesitantly “Perhaps we should speak about this again in a few days.” 

 

“Yes, I think that would be for the best.” 

 

Zenyatta came out a moment later, his motions lacking their usual fluidity. He looked to where Genji was poised by the door. “I suspected you would be nearby”, he said fondly. 

 

“Sorry”, Genji said, suddenly feeling intrusive. 

 

“No need to apologize, I’m glad you’re here”, Zenyatta said as he leaned against the wall for a moment. 

 

“Are you ok?”, Genji asked, putting his hand on his shoulder.

 

“I will be. This is the first time my brother and I have ever truly had a falling out.”

 

“That was a falling out?”, Genji asked, “If that was my brother and I things would have come down to physical blows.” 

 

Zenyatta gave a low chuckle, but it sounded forced “I suppose such a thing is subjective, but I’m not sure what this means.” 

 

Genji felt a stab of guilt work through him “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done this.”

 

“Done what?”

 

“Have those turrets installed, cause you problems this way.” 

 

“You have done no such thing, I was glad that you were so eager to help. I still think it was the best course of action despite my hesitance.” 

 

“Even if your brother is angry with you?” 

 

“Mondatta very rarely gets angry, just disappointed.” 

 

Genji groaned “That’s worse.” 

 

“I know”, Zenyatta said with a sigh. “Besides I could have very easily asked you not to do it.”

 

“But still-” 

 

“The problem is not between you and him, it’s between he and I. This is just one of many things we have not seen eye to eye on as of late. I was the one who suggested going behind my brother’s back in the first place after all.”

 

“Yes, but then I encouraged you to go through with it.” 

 

“I still could have refused, instead of aiding you as I did.” 

 

“But-”

 

“I fear if we continue this way we will never reach a conclusion. Ultimately, the fault lies with me.” 

 

“It lies with both of us”, Genji said fervently. “So wait is that it for tonight then?”, he asked as they made their way down the hall. 

 

“I would assume so, and truth be told I am rather tired”, Zenyatta said with a sigh. 

 

“Come to my room then”, Genji offered. “I can help you relax. Come on”, he said softly, as he drew close and stroked his fingers down the length of his arms “Let me do this for you.” 

 

“A tempting offer, one I’d be hard pressed to refuse”, he said warmly, as he let Genji lead him by the hand back to his room. Zenyatta followed behind him quietly, only when they reached the slightly disorderly confine of his room did he speak up.

 

“I see you are all settled in”, he said sounding amused, as he gestured to his few belongings scattered around the room and his blankets strewn across the floor. 

 

Genji chuckled “You said to make myself comfortable”, he replied, stepping over the blankets. "Come here”, he said, taking off his visor and faceplate and climbing onto the bed, beckoning for Zenyatta to join him. The monk crossed the distance quickly, sitting down in front of him, his back meeting with Genji’s chest. He was uncertain for a moment, he didn’t usually play the role of the comforter. He didn’t know the appropriate gestures or the right words to say, but he could at least do this much. He kissed the back of Zenyatta’s neck, his hands massaging his shoulders, down the length of his spine. Zenyatta leaned further back into him sighing, his hands traveled over the curve of his shoulders then down to the warmth of his chest. He kissed his shoulder as his hands smoothed down the angles of his arms, Zenyatta completely relaxed in his embrace, exhaling a long breath. 

 

“Are you feeling alright?”, Genji asked. 

 

“Beyond alright”, Zenyatta said, contented. 

 

Genji laughed softly “I’m sorry I can’t do more for you.” 

 

“If you did any more I fear I would never leave.” 

 

“I wouldn’t mind”, Genji replied, his voice lowering an octave. 

 

“Truly I wouldn’t either, but we both have our duties to attend to.” 

 

“We don’t have any right now.” 

 

“This is true”, Zenyatta agreed, leaning against him “Thank you for this.” 

 

“It’s the least I could do”, Genji answered, bringing his arms around Zenyatta’s middle and kissing the side of his face. 

 

They sat in peaceful silence until Genji realized Zenyatta had fallen asleep in his arms. He didn’t have the heart to move him so he pulled one of the spare blankets over them, more than content to sleep in an awkward position if it meant giving Zenyatta some much-needed rest. He allowed himself one final kiss as he hugged him close, his eyes turning to the distant peaks that lay outside his window, the afternoon light beginning to fade.

 

Genji woke the next morning to Zenyatta sprawled out on top on him. From what he could surmise he had fallen on his back during the night and Zenyatta had followed suit, pressed up against him from legs to chest. He shook his head in dismay at having fallen asleep so early and then felt a brief shiver run down his spine as the monk shifted slightly in his sleep. He ran a hand down Zenyatta’s spine affectionately, seriously considered waking him up and seeing if they could get away with far more than just kissing before being caught. But he thought better of it, judging by the deep and resonant peals of the bell it was already 10. He prodded Zenyatta in the back a few times until he woke “Good morning Genji”, he said warmly, sleepily. 

 

Genji thought it might be the best thing he’s heard in a long time “Good morning”, he answered happily, “You slept well?” 

 

“Yes, very well. I think it had something to do with the company”, he said with a chuckle, as he climbed off of him and got to his feet. Genji was sorry for the loss of contact but realized quickly that they both had work to do.

 

In the days that followed, they easily lapsed back into routine. Genji would wake early to help the monks with their daily duties, and Zenyatta would go off to attend to his students. In the late afternoon, he would return to Genji’s room to meditate with him, they would spend the next few hours like that until Genji either got restless, or Zenyatta announced that they had spent enough time on it. He and Mondatta had yet to speak about the incident of the turrets, or how they should handle things. And although Zenyatta had yet to say anything about his feelings on the matter Genji could tell from the stiffness of his movements and his far off stares directed over the peaks of the mountains that it was weighing on him. He was not well versed in the different methods of comfort, certainly not like his master was, but he tried in his own way to take his mind off things. He stayed close by him, let his kisses linger a little longer, and he would often appear in Zenyatta’s room at night to talk. One evening, Genji tentatively asked him about the issues with his brother, Zenyatta was silent for a moment before he answered him.

 

“I do not regret my decision”, he said finally. “I understand why Mondatta is disappointed however, he did ask me directly to honor his wishes, but I refused to listen.” 

 

“Do you think he’s still disappointed?”, Genji asked, crowding close to him.

 

“I doubt it. Mondatta is slow to anger and quick to forgive. But this does make me question how things will continue.” 

 

“Can’t you go on as you have been?” 

 

“Of course, but this is just one of many things we have disagreed on, and these are important issues”, he said, looking contemplative. 

 

“You don’t like the way he’s leading the Shambali?” 

 

“It’s more that I see that there is a shift happening, like the turning of the tides. I could fight the current and swim back to shore to what’s familiar, or let it wash me where it may.” 

 

“Where would that tide take you?” 

 

“From what I have observed my brother is pushing for a more strict style of teaching. Something I have always been opposed to.” 

 

“So what does that mean for you?” 

 

“I’m not sure”, Zenyatta answered, looking thoughtful. 

 

Their nightly conversations grew light after that exchange, although he did inquire as to how he was feeling a few nights later as he seemed to be doing better. Zenyatta assured him that he was feeling better about the matter after having meditated for several hours. Instead, their conversations turned to the events of the day. How one of the monks had found a birds nest high in the rafters housing 3 hatchlings and a very irate mother who had managed to chase them all from the room. “I didn’t know goldcrests were so bloodthirsty”, Genji said with a laugh as his mentor chuckled along with him. He told Zenyatta stories about his early days with Overwatch. Zenyatta wove him tales of the first years of the Shambali, their first time addressing a crowd and how Mondatta’s voice box had been malfunctioning so that every word he spoke came out in a high-pitched and squeaky tone which had left the crowd dying with laughter. They had a small group of omnics join the order shortly after that speech who were all initially disappointed that their leader’s voice was not as humorous as they thought. 

 

He told Genji about those first years up in the mountains, their first visitors; a group of people they had found struggling through the heavy snow and had kept them there as the storm passed. That anxious first night spent wondering if they would have to flee again, only to have their fears go unfounded, and how news of their kindness had spread and the nearby village had come bearing gifts and much-needed hospitality. How through hard work and the help of others they had gone from a small band of runaways to an internationally known group that was well respected amongst humans and omnics alike. Genji listened attentively to his stories, happy to hear about what he was doing before they had met and even happier to see him relax as he laughed at old memories and recounted anecdotes bridled with a sweet nostalgia.

 

Several days later Mondatta and Zenyatta had their talk. Genji only knew it because Suman had told him after he asked about his master’s absence around the monastery grounds. He had decided for once to try to be patient and not listen in on their conversation and had busied himself with his chores and taking a short sprint around the property. He was halfway through his run when he looked up to observe the high cliff where he and Zenyatta sparred. He was startled to see a familiar glint there and promptly abandoned his route to make the steep climb. Zenyatta was sitting there observing the horizon as Genji climbed up over the ledge. 

 

“Ah, it’s good to see you Genji”, he said happily, as Genji strode over to where he was sitting. 

 

“It’s good to see you too”, he said, kneeling down to kiss his forehead. “What are you doing up here?”, he asked, taking a seat next to him “I take it we’re not sparring?” 

 

“Not unless you would like to.” 

 

“No, I’m fine. How did the conversation with Mondatta go?”, he asked. 

 

Zenyatta didn’t tense as he thought he would, he simply sighed. “I believe it went well. I apologized again for my actions and he conceded that perhaps with all that’s been happening it would be wise to have some line of defense, but still didn’t think we could keep the turrets. Considering the lack of threat from Talon at the moment, I suppose there would be no harm done.” 

 

“Is that all you spoke about?” 

 

“No. I have been considering some things for the past few days. On whether or not I can continue to align myself with something I am so opposed to.” 

 

“What conclusion did you come to?” 

 

“I cannot.”

 

Genji went silent for a moment. “So then what does that mean?” 

 

“It means I will be leaving for awhile.” 

 

“You’re going to leave the Shambali?” 

 

“No, just the monastery. The Shambali, just like the Iris itself will always remain a part of me. But my brother and I do not agree on the direction the Shambali should go and have not for quite some time. This situation, along with a handful of others, has shown me how much we differ in our ideologies. I would like to continue as I have been, allowing people to make their own decisions, making connections, not relying solely on such dogmatic teachings.” 

 

Genji remained silent next to him, he had thought about leaving the castle on a few occasions after his father’s passing. One night he had even hastily packed his bags, throwing things in an old backpack in a fit of rage after a particularly bad bout of arguing with Hanzo. He never knew what had kept him there, whether it was some kind of misguided nostalgia or his promise to his father as he lay on his sickbed. Whatever the reason he had remained there through all the pain and the furious arguments, he had remained in that house with Hanzo until the bitter end. But he could understand Zenyatta’s reasons for leaving. He simply wanted to continue spreading their message in his own way, giving people a different perspective on their teachings. “Do you think you’ll ever return?”, he asked. 

 

“Perhaps, but for now I believe I can be of more use elsewhere. That may change, but that is my course for now.”

 

“Does your brother know you’re leaving?” 

 

“He gave me his blessing. We are not leaving on bad terms, but even so, it will be strange to be gone with no set date to return.” 

 

Genji took his hand “I know, but it’s not forever. You can always come back when you want to”, he said a little wistfully. There was nothing for him to return to back in Hanamura, save for a hostile group of guards and a plethora of unsettling memories. 

 

“That’s true”, Zenyatta said, leaning against him with a soft sigh as the first draft of chilly night air blew in from the east, and they were forced to make the slow descent from atop the cliff back down to the monastery. 

 

As the light crept in through his window the next morning, Genji looked over his few belongings. Admittedly there wasn’t much to pack, and sad as he was he would have to leave the Pachimari behind. He gave it an affectionate pat “Watch this place while I’m away”, he thought, and then shook his head feeling childish, he had used to do that with his action figures. He looked over his bag again, turning over the crumpled photo of he and Hanzo he had pilfered from the castle somehow still intact after the brief firefight and stuffing it in the space of his arm where his shuriken were. The phone Zenyatta had given him, he had kept it with the intent that if he needed to call Jesse again he would be able to and considering the events of the past few weeks it might be necessary now. He had a few extra shuriken stashed away at the bottom of the bag, but that was the extent of his effects.

 

There would be no formal announcement that Zenyatta was leaving. It was understood that he most likely would return one day, but considering Mondatta’s unwavering position and Zenyatta’s more amenable nature it seemed that his would be a long absence. Genji had a hard time wrapping his mind around the amicable terms of their separation. He had only ever known for such things to go poorly. If anyone was going to leave in his family it was always after furious arguments, or in he and Hanzo’s case; physical blows. Zenyatta appeared in the doorway a moment later, as usual, his bag looked even lighter than his own. 

 

“You’re really taking all that?”, Genji teased.

 

Zenyatta chuckled “True, it is a bit more than I am used to carrying, but the path is a long one”, he said sounding amused. “Did you say goodbye to Suman?” 

 

“Yes, he’s taking it pretty hard, he wouldn’t let me go until he hugged me for 10 minutes. He also asked us to send him a letter when we get settled somewhere.”

 

“I will make sure that we do he is prone to worry”, Zenyatta said, patting the Pachimari lightly “It’s a shame we can’t take him with us”, he said, giving the oversized plush one last loving tap.

 

“He’ll be here when we get back”, Genji said, feeling as though they were leaving behind a cherished family pet. He didn’t have much knowledge in that aspect, his father had only ever kept fish, and he had never gotten attached to them beautiful as they were. Though Hanzo had grown sullen over the death of a dark blue betta their father had purchased on a whim. 

 

“Are you ready to go?”, Zenyatta asked, abruptly snapping him back to the matter at hand. 

 

“Yes”, Genji answered. They were leaving early, Zenyatta had told him it was because he wanted to get an early start. Though Genji suspected it had more to do with the fact that he didn’t want a long drawn out farewell from the other monks as they left the monastery grounds and strode back onto the trail.

 

“Are you sure you want to leave?”, Genji asked suddenly, as he followed Zenyatta down over the steep path and into the early morning air, the light just beginning to peek over the tops of the mountains. 

 

“I am”, Zenyatta answered, sounding resolute. “I have entrusted my student’s instruction to a few of the older monks. Whenever I return they can resume their training with me”, he said, sounding a tad wistful. 

 

“Master-”, he cut himself off. He could see in the downward tilt of his head, the stiffness of his movements, and the quiet tones of his voice, that despite his reassurances leaving was still taking its toll on him. Genji felt that same insistent desire he had felt back in India and threw his arm around his shoulders. He was leaving peacefully, but even so, Genji knew what it meant to move on, it would be even more difficult because he was making his departure on such amicable terms.

 

“I’m sure by the time we return you’ll have even more knowledge to impart to them, master. Your departure doesn’t have to be a bad thing”, he said softly. “I know you’d prefer to stay but maybe when you come back Mondatta will be willing to change how he does things. Even if he doesn’t at least you’re not in this alone.” 

 

Zenyatta turned his head slightly to kiss him on the side of his face. “Thank you”, he said warmly “Though it is still difficult to leave”, he added, his tone briefly hinted with melancholy.

 

“It is”, Genji agreed as they continued their walk down the mountainside in silence, the monastery slowly sinking out of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for all the wonderful comments, they really mean a lot to me!  
> So this chapter we got a lot of dialogue and set-up, and our dear ninja made some progress. As for Zenyatta the split was a long time coming and it wasn't just this issue that caused it, but it was the culmination of a lot of different things. Next chapter Genji will start trying to track Hanzo down and we'll get some more insight into what he and the clan have been up to.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji tries to help Zenyatta feel better about leaving the monastery and Zenyatta in turn, helps him sort out some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost thank you for all the kudos and comments. Also, like I said in a previous chapter I’m not really sticking to the official timeline and I decided to up the rating because there is some sexual content in this chapter, nothing super explicit but I just wanted to be safe. I also wanted to say sorry that this chapter took so long to get out. Despite the fact that it’s a little shorter than the others and is essentially acting as something close to an interlude it took a great deal of time to put together. I hope to have the next one out a little quicker since I’m on break right now.

The demise of Overwatch came swiftly on the heels of their departure from the monastery. He had been looking over a news feed on his phone one afternoon when he saw a picture of the Swiss base in ruins, and then 3 frantic minutes later he had pulled up the holovid with the speech that Overwatch had disbanded and all actions under that name had been outlawed. He was overcome with a myriad of emotions but the most pressing one was panic. The only known casualties at the moment were Morrison and Reyes, and he felt a kind of slow pain of grief for the man who had been partly responsible for his salvation and a kind of passing sadness for Morrison who he had never had much interaction with. 

 

Had this been a few short years ago, when he was still an angry and bitter man he would have gladly welcomed the fall of Overwatch. But now as he sat there, his eyes taking in the smoking remains of buildings and watching the austere expressions of the UN and public officials as they recounted supposed crimes and misdeeds committed under Blackwatch, he just felt a slow aching burn of grief. He had heard tales about Blackwatch from Jesse during some of their earliest nights together, mostly stories about Reyes and how most of the people they recruited were probably better left to serve their time. He told him about undercover ops, shady deals, shallow graves dug under the pale light of the moon, and a cavalcade of criminals all supposedly working for the greater good. He didn’t know what to make of those stories at the time he had never heavily interacted with any of the Blackwatch agents. But from what he observed they had a great deal in common with his father’s subordinates; a pack of wolves handsomely arrayed in sheep’s clothing. 

 

Throughout that haze of anxiety, he spent the next few days trying to get in contact with Jesse. He had attempted to call him several times in a fit of worry and then remembered the cowboy’s talk about his life before his time at the watchpoint. A nomadic life, the price on his head, dodging hits from overly eager bounty hunters under a brutally hot sun, seeking refuge in safe houses forsaken by time and humanity. He had lived a fairly similar life while he was still working with Overwatch, the remnant of the Shimada-gumi had placed an absurdly large price on the head of the unnamed cyborg commanding the dragon spirit with the fierce eyes and crooked horns. They had managed to nearly best him a handful of times, the last instance being when he had met Zenyatta. He would have dwelt on the fates of his former comrades and that once shining organization for longer but his partner’s sadness was far more pressing. 

 

The weeks that followed their separation from the monastery had been hard. He found his mentor sullen and unusually quiet. He knew the split would be tough even though Zenyatta had assured him time and time again that he would be fine as he was often gone for weeks at a time from the monastery, but even so he could tell that the move was taking its toll on him. Genji made it his business to try to support him as best he could. He understood his melancholy, he had felt something similar as he had left the watchpoint on that cramped cargo plane. Or when he had sat in the med bay after his surgery with tears in his eyes, his mind turned back to the warm days of his youth. Historically, Genji didn’t know how to provide consolation. He had never been adept at handling his own problems and the concerns of others had always eluded him. Some of his past partners had tried in vain to speak with him about matters of their life, the concerns, the fears, the dreams for the future. He had never known what to say, never had the appropriate words to offer up to support their dreams or refute their fears. Some had scoffed at his lack of sensitivity and those relationships had always ended quickly, broken down by a lack of communication and deeper feelings. Those same shortcomings had even extended to the relations with his own family, he hadn’t even been able to help console his own brother after their mother’s passing. 

 

He remembered sitting out in the courtyard barely stifling his tears after the ceremony. Hanzo had wordlessly appeared before him, his expression unreadable as he came forward and pulled him into a tight hug. Genji brought his arms around him, those tears he had been holding back finally springing forth until he was sobbing so loudly that it startled his father’s subordinates and they had abandoned their places inside to find the source of the wailing. He hadn’t seen it, he had been too absorbed in his mourning, but he was still sure that Hanzo had shooed them away. Undoubtedly they would have had words for him and his supposed display of weakness, but he never heard them. Not even as he had finally stopped crying when his voice had grown hoarse and his eyes were red and still bleary with unshed tears. Hanzo had pulled him inside and forced him to sit at the table while he poured him some tea, his mouth set into a hard frown, his own face stained with tears. Hanzo set the steaming cup in front of him as he took his place across the table. “Do you want to talk about it?”, he asked softly. Genji shook his head “No”, he answered, pushing the tea aside. That had been the extent of the words between them about their mother’s untimely passing. They had never mentioned her again unless it was to speak about the fond memories they shared with her, though it did little to ease the pain.

 

In the months that followed, Hanzo had continued to try to look out for him. But as their father had grown ill and his presence in the house became sparse he had abandoned the castle in favor of seeking out his own means of relief. He realized now, despite everything, he probably should have stayed there. If nothing else than as a way to repay Hanzo for all those years he had acted as a second father to him. But his grief ran too deep, his sorrow was too pervasive, and he felt hurt that his brother made no moves to try to alleviate his pain. He was hurt that he was so consumed with his duty to take on leadership of the clan. That he found it more useful to criticize him and his methods of coping rather than to try to understand why he was gone and the reasons for what Hanzo deemed to be a sense of recklessness and maddening behavior. He thought on it now and realized that Hanzo had to be suffering too. He was carrying the burden of a criminal empire that had been running smoothly for generations, and he was barely out of college by the time their father had passed and leadership had been abruptly thrust upon him. Looking back he wondered how he could be so selfish as to think he was the only one who needed help. Especially when his brother had been left alone with his pain to fester in the darkness of the castle, left to watch their father slowly die in front of his eyes, with not even his own brother to try to relieve that sting of loss. 

 

He hadn’t even been there as their father had passed. His grief over his father’s deteriorating condition had thrown him into the company of a new partner. The woodsy scent of his cologne still clinging heavily to his skin as he had made his way into the house that night only to see Hanzo standing by his door, his eyes downcast. “Father has passed”, he said, his voice cracking slightly. That revelation had hit him hard and only until a week later did he really feel the full impact of that statement, of what that meant, and he had retreated again into the embrace of lovers who knew nothing of his grief. He had made no attempts to try to console his brother, at the time that rift between them had kept him away and it only seemed to widen with their father’s passing, his frustrated promise the only thing keeping him around. He saw no reason to try to console him, to his eyes he seemed to be handling his death well. But now he suspected that his steely-eyed stares and his frowns hid a deep regret and a painful sadness, one that he harbored alone with no end in sight. It made him feel guilty, a sensation that he had never expected to feel in regards to Hanzo. But it was there, clasped along with that burgeoning sense of sympathy, it was there and he had no idea what do with it. All he could do was promise himself that he would try to make up for the failings of his youth and that he would not make the same mistakes with Zenyatta’s pain now.

 

After some thought Genji quickly came to the realization that for the past few weeks they had confined themselves to guesthouses and cities, never once venturing out into the countryside. They had remained in Nepal for no other reason than they had no pressing business to attend to and were merely just taking their time passing through. Although Genji suspected that Zenyatta was reluctant to leave right away he was happy now that they had decided to stay longer. It made easy work for him as he made the proper arrangements so they could make their way up and over to India, specifically to Jammu and Kashmir. He had settled on that site of abundant natural beauty with the knowledge that nature had proven in the past to lift his spirits and the hope that he had never been there before. He didn’t dare to assume that it would act as a cure-all, but above anything else he just wanted to see Zenyatta happy again even if only for a moment. So he bought the tickets for the flight, once again thankful that he had enough foresight to stash away some of the leftover money from their last trip. After he managed to deflect a few curious inquiries from Zenyatta with a wink and a coy smile the monk didn’t ask where they were going again, not even as they boarded the crowded shuttle to the airport. Genji was glad he hadn’t waited longer to get them there, he was anxious with the idea that maybe Zenyatta had already been to Kashmir, that perhaps this wouldn’t be enough to help cheer him up. He remained that way, fidgeting with worry the entire flight until finally they touched down in Srinagar and he saw Zenyatta look around. 

 

“Are we at our destination yet?”, Zenyatta asked as Genji pulled out his phone to look over the map. 

 

“Not yet”, he answered, “Are you getting impatient?” 

 

“No, merely curious.” 

 

“Don’t worry, you’ll find out where we’re going soon enough”, he said in a sly tone, that did nothing to settle his nerves as he called for a pick-up. The route to Kupwara was an hour long ride that only seemed to amplify his anxiousness and Zenyatta’s relative silence next to him did nothing to quell his fears. It was only when the car dropped them off, and they began the walk to Lolab Valley when his anxiety finally began to subside. As soon as they made it there he was immediately taken aback. The valley was breathtaking, lush green fields stretched for miles around them, the peaks of tree covered mountains sat off in the distance behind tall pines. Before he could take in any more of their surroundings he felt a cool hand slip into his own, he looked over to see Zenyatta observing the vast landscape before them. His head angled back to look over the mountains that enclosed the valley, the deep cerulean hue of the sky, the birds moving slowly through the air caught by a sudden breeze. “I believe I understand why you wanted to keep this a surprise”, he said, his tone warm.

 

“It didn’t disappoint?”, he asked, a little hesitantly. 

 

“Of course not”, Zenyatta answered, drawing closer to him, slipping his hand out of his grasp to bring it around his middle. Genji sighed as he brought his arm around the monk’s shoulders “I’m glad”, he said quietly. They walked along the valley after that quick exchange. Although Zenyatta was quiet as they traversed long and winding foot paths that cut meandering courses through the grassy plain, he could tell he was feeling better in the way he looked around the horizon, how the fluidity had returned to his motions, how he thanked him in low almost reverent tones, his arm still around his middle keeping him close. Not one to ever skip a lesson Zenyatta had them sit in the grass to meditate. Genji found it especially easy with such serene surroundings, and let his mind slowly lapse into that quiet headspace that he had been cultivating for the past few months. The dread and worry washing away with a slow moving tide that receded into a calm orderly void where nothing could concern him. They stayed like that for an hour, until Genji opened his eyes to see that a small flock of rock buntings had claimed Zenyatta as their perch. The monk finally raised his head and noticed them flitting around his knees and precariously perched on his upturned fingers. Genji knew he must be feeling better as he laughed as they settled down to sit on his shoulders and nip at his wiring. Genji was overjoyed to hear his gentle laughter again. He knew it had only been a few short weeks, but it had felt like far longer seeing him so melancholy, to hear him laughing so easily felt like a revelation. “You’re very popular master”, he chuckled, as one of the tiny birds came to rest in Zenyatta’s open palm. 

 

“It would seem so”, he answered, as he ran a delicate finger over its head. It chirped once before flying up to sit on his shoulder with several others. 

 

“They certainly have taken a liking to you”, Genji said teasingly, as one alighted atop his mentor’s head. 

 

“And you as well”, Zenyatta said, as a house sparrow landed on Genji’s head and then fluttered down to his shoulder. 

 

“I guess that’s fitting”, he said with a brief smile “My mother used to compare me to the sparrows around our house.” 

 

“Why was that?”

 

“They were loud but sociable”, he said with a faint laugh “And always getting into trouble, constantly flitting to the next thing.”

 

“I remember you telling me that, but you were only a child then. Nothing like the man you’ve grown into.”

 

“I don’t know, sometimes I still feel that way.” 

 

“I have yet to see any of those traits you’ve described.” 

 

“Just wait until you spend a little more time with me.” 

 

“I look forward to spending as much time as I can with you. But I doubt I will see anything of the sort.” There was a long pause punctuated by bird songs before Zenyatta said quietly “Thank you for bringing me here.” Genji watched as he silently reached for his hand, his fingers running over his knuckles with a contented sigh. “I appreciate all that you’ve done to cheer me up. I realize I have not been myself lately, but I do want you to know I am truly thankful for all that you’ve done for me. I hope I’ve made that clear.” 

 

“You have”, Genji answered “I would have never have expected you to be fine so quickly after leaving. I just hoped by bringing you here I could help you a bit. I feel like I haven’t been able to do very much”, he said with a frown. 

 

“You underestimate your abilities Genji. Just being with you has lifted my spirits. Whether it’s here or in what you deem as cheap hotels, I am always at my happiest when we’re together.” 

 

Genji blushed, looking beyond Zenyatta to the horizon. “I feel the same way”, he said, feeling oddly shy. “Although I’d rather be here than those cheap hotels any day.” 

 

“They have not been so bad.” 

 

“How can you say that when we went to that 4-star hotel back in Tokyo?” 

 

“They both have their charms.” 

 

“I don’t know if I’d call cigarette burns in the sheets a charm, though.” 

 

“They could be seen to add character.” 

 

“We booked a non-smoking room.” 

 

“Hm, a mystery then. Something that further adds interest to the trip.” Genji chuckled as he pulled Zenyatta into a tight hug, heartened to hear his laughter soft and low in his ears. 

 

When they arrived at their hotel that evening Zenyatta kissed him as soon as he laid his faceplate down on the bedside table. Genji kissed him back, pulling him over to the bed so that he fell onto his lap. “I’m guessing this is you thanking me again for today.” Zenyatta laughed “Yes, and also because I am happy to be here with you”, he said, affectionately running a hand down the side of his face.

 

“I’m glad”, he said kissing him again “Are you feeling better?” 

 

“Slowly but surely I am”, he said, “I do not regret my decision to leave, but I do think I underestimated how much I would come to miss the mountains, and the monastery.”

 

“I know”, was all the answer Genji could give him. He had never truly missed Hanamura, his memories were too severely tainted with what had happened there. So that every fond memory and impassioned remnant of nostalgia was quickly twisted and warped until all the sweetness was gone. He couldn’t entirely relate to what Zenyatta was feeling, but he could understand in some small way the abrupt sadness and the small brittle pearls of regret. He knew he couldn’t speed up the process of his recovery from his own failed attempts with his own healing, but he knew at the very least he could aid him as he had been, as he would continue to do.

 

The next morning Genji could tell his mood had vastly improved. He was more talkative and he requested to take a tour of the town with his usual gusto, their conversations as they traversed through the city and then the countryside easily giving way to their usual banter. Genji was beyond himself with happiness to see him feeling better and when they retired for the night he kissed him until he felt so breathless that he had to lay back on the bed to recover. Not only from the heaving of his chest, but also from the painful ache of arousal that those tender feelings had stirred up.

 

He realized belatedly, as they wound down the evening and he settled in Zenyatta’s arms to drift off to sleep, that this had been a long time coming. Had this been him before the accident he would have taken Zenyatta right then and there in a passionate fit of lust and joy that he felt could never be comparable to even those amorous nights of his youth. But now he wasn't sure what to do with himself. He wasn’t sure if he could go further than those feverish kisses and those touches that left a searing burn in their wake. They had come close on several occasions, the fervor of his kisses giving way to breathy moans and illicit thoughts that he didn’t dare act on, his touches straying to undiscovered territory. As far as he knew Zenyatta had no issue with such things, he had made no objections, never pulled away, never slapped his hands. As far as he knew he was perfectly comfortable, perfectly content to be swept away into the warm and ardent flood of desire. To let Genji explore every nook and undiscovered recess of his body, to let those cold and dying coals of his heart be stoked again, and pull him into his warm embrace. There was nothing stopping him, nothing but his own hesitance. He knew from past experiences that denying himself anything never worked for long, whether it had been food, possessions, or company, he could never put aside his cravings for long. He knew why he was reluctant, once again it came down to his body. He had grown in the past few months to learn to understand his new form, he had even grown to love it on the most fickle of terms. But he still wasn't sure about more amorous endeavors. How would it work? He could barely wrap his mind around how he could fulfill whatever desires Zenyatta had, or even what they might be.

 

At one time Zenyatta’s lack of anything below the waist would have greatly discouraged him. But now it only heightened his eagerness to explore, to see if he would be able to make him come undone with his mouth or with a few strokes of his fingers along exposed nodes and curling around coiled wires. Their relationship so far not included anything he would deem as sexual. Whenever his need had become too great he had always waited until Zenyatta was away and made his way to the bathroom to relieve himself to the thought of cool fingers running down his spine and a voice that soothed as well as ignited an arousal so deep and abundant that he often found it hard to concentrate. This was entirely new territory, he couldn’t remember ever wanting someone so badly. True, there had been those tersely passionate weeks with Jesse, those long sessions of kissing in the darkness of his room, but they had never come close to anything that strayed beyond a few quick touches and a hand that had traveled too far in earnest only to be slapped away and accompanied by hasty apologies. Even after all the long hours of silent meditation, the tender reassurances of his partner, the gentle kisses along his lips, he still found it hard to wrap his mind around the concept of making love in this body. 

 

Despite his concerns his yearning only seemed to be urging him on. So much so that on one occasion they had been kissing and Zenyatta had merely run a hand along the curve of his thigh, and he moaned so loudly that he had actually excused himself in embarrassment and ran off to the bathroom to huff with shame as he brought himself off under the sterile fluorescent lights. He had come out with shy apologies and quick words of reassurance that he was fine and no he hadn’t done anything wrong. He had sulked for a few hours after that, feeling childish. “This shouldn't be this hard”, he thought to himself as they laid together that night. He had enticed so many people to his bed that it had become an art form for him. A sort of strange and elegant formula that he could refer back to when he felt uncertain, something that became second nature to him after a few short months and sex was no longer a foreign concept. Even so, he found his level of sensitivity, his heightened arousal, a little off-putting at his age. Everything seemed to set him off. He wished to blame it on not having done it in awhile, or perhaps it was merely the result of this new form and how he hadn’t been touched so intimately for so long. Perhaps it was all those things, but whatever the reason it was starting to drive him incoherent with need, so much so that he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out for.

 

Things came to their breaking point late one afternoon as Zenyatta was out running a quick errand to send a letter off to the monastery. The 6th in their relatively short chain of correspondence with Suman, whose replies only seemed to grow in length. Genji had insisted on going with him out of a certain paranoia and a level of clinginess he didn’t want to admit to. But Zenyatta had politely turned him down, the post office was not far from where they were staying, and he assured him after a few quick kisses that he would be fine. That left Genji to his own devices. He had been gone for only a few minutes before his mind darted back to the other night, the hand on his thigh, the passionate kiss in the dark with Zenyatta pulled on top of him, and in a matter of seconds, he was achingly aroused. Genji hissed, a little annoyed with himself, but not so much so that he wished to neglect this. He looked hesitantly at the door, then to his phone, he had only been gone for 5 minutes and he honestly didn’t know how long it was going to take for him to return. But he couldn’t bring himself to care if he was caught as he laid back out on the bed and let his mind slowly work over the past few months with Zenyatta. The calm words, the playful banter, the support, the kisses, those gentle exploratory touches. He sighed, letting his eyes slip closed as his fingers crept under the metal plating at his sides, caressing underneath them. He sighed again, taking pleasure in the sound of his own voice, wondering what Zenyatta would sound like if he were here. What would be his reaction if he were to walk in on this? Would he tease him? “Probably not”, he thought with a brief smile. He would most likely act shocked at first before striding over to feel along the expanse of his body, his fingers mapping out the planes and angles of his form. He moaned as he let himself loose with a quick turn of a valve at his hip, and quickly took himself in hand, working himself at a pace he knew he couldn't easily sustain. Just then he heard the door open. He looked over to see Zenyatta standing there, his hand still on the doorknob, his head tilted to observe the ministrations of his hands then tilting up to observe his face. Genji felt as though he should try to look chastened, but couldn’t find it in himself. Instead, he offered the monk a salacious grin as he dragged his fingers achingly slow along his length, loosing a shuddering moan. Zenyatta had yet to even move, he was totally silent, still standing in the open doorway. 

 

“What’s wrong?”, he asked “Are you just going to stand there and watch? Or are you going to help me with this?” 

 

His partner was silent as he closed the door. “Both are enticing options”, Zenyatta said finally. “I’m not sure I can make such a difficult decision so quickly”, he said, his tone laced with mischief as Genji groaned. “But I fear you have need of my aid more than my observation”, he said, quickly crossing the distance and situating himself on the bed next to him. “What would you have me do Genji?”, he asked, bringing his fingers along the ridge of his nose, caressing his bottom lip. 

 

Genji kissed his fingers. “Touch me”, he said, leaning up to kiss him until he felt almost too breathless to move.

 

Zenyatta was the first to pull away. “Where would you have me touch you?”, he asked. 

 

“Anywhere. Everywhere. Just get started.” 

 

Zenyatta chuckled “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at your impatience at this point, dear one”, he said affectionately.

 

Genji gave a contented sigh at that simple endearment. His sigh turned to a low moan as Zenyatta’s fingers went to familiar and well-traveled areas of his sensitivity. Zenyatta hovered over him, supporting himself on his knees, his hand traveled down the expanse of his stomach and down to stroke along his hip. 

 

“What do you need Genji?”, he asked. 

 

“Just you”, he breathes through the haze of lust, the strongest he’s ever felt. Zenyatta chuckles and it only serves to send a shiver down his spine. It only ends as Zenyatta strokes down his sides, his fingers insistently tracing under those plates. He lets loose a pleased gasp as he continues his exploration. Zenyatta cradles the back of his head as he kisses him, Genji returns it readily, bringing his arms around his neck pulling him down closer. He falls back against the pillows, breathless, but still seeking more stimulation. “Zenyatta”, he whispers. 

 

“Yes?”, he asked as Genji gave a low sigh. He took his partner’s hand and brought it lower, manipulating his fingers until they were gently curved around him. Zenyatta didn’t seem perturbed, he merely asked, in a low voice that sounded only mildly shaky “Are you sure?” 

 

Genji groaned, more than a little impatient. “Do I need to write out an invitation?”, he asked in a teasing whisper. Then as Zenyatta continued to hesitate he breathed “Please”, as he arched off the bed. There were no hesitations after that. Zenyatta wasted no time in caressing along his length, more exploration than anything right now, but that did nothing to quell his arousal. “It’s been too long”, he thought, as he gasped and writhed on the bed underneath him, his fingers digging under his metal plating seeking added pleasure. He groaned as Zenyatta continued at an almost glacial pace and then suddenly realized that he had yet to reciprocate. Genji reached up and found that same exposed node, tweaking it between his fingers. Zenyatta gave a low sigh, his pace only quickening slightly. Genji leaned up slightly, his tongue twisting around that same spot until his sighs and moans grew in volume and the leisurely pace of his hand sped up. Not to be outdone he massaged along his back, prodding under metal plating, seeking spots of his anatomy that would yield to his feverish touch. To his delight, he found several, all of which seemed to elicit different breathy reactions from his partner. 

 

“I wonder which one of us will give out first”, Genji teased, as his fingers stroked along a sensitive area under the plating of his shoulder. 

 

Zenyatta laughed breathlessly “Cheeky.” 

 

“You know you love it, though”, Genji said, as he felt the inevitability of his end coming as Zenyatta’s fingers moved in long quick strokes until finally he was spent. He barely had time to call his name, it hit him so suddenly and so hard that he thought he might pass out from the force of it. He only allowed himself enough time to catch his breath before he began to move as Zenyatta carefully eased off of him.

 

“Wait, come back here. We’re not done yet”, he said gently pulling Zenyatta back towards him. “I neglected you”, he breathed, as he tried to gently angle Zenyatta back against the bed. 

 

“You didn’t neglect me”, Zenyatta said as he let himself be laid out under him. He sounded a little baffled, a little breathless. 

 

“I intend to fix that”, he thought smugly. “I did, you never got the chance to come”, he said softly “That’s what I’m going to fix”, he said, as he leaned down and buried his mouth against the cool metal of his neck. This was the only time he wished Zenyatta had skin so he could mark it, stake his claim on him, let everyone know he was the only one who could satiate those hidden desires buried beneath pearls of wisdom and that ceaseless kindness. He was the only one who could do it; the voracious sparrow with the wings that yearned to fly, to be free. Now though he would bring someone with him, happily bear what he had deemed at one time to be a burden, a commitment to only one person; the monk, the friend, the lover, the partner. He couldn’t think on it long as Zenyatta’s cool hands came to traverse along his neck and slide over his chest. He continued kissing him, his lips moving to his chest. He was warm there, that sound of internal clockwork and hardware whirring loudly like he was being overheated. “Maybe he is”, he thought with a smirk. Suddenly, he felt two legs, much stronger that he thought, wrap around his waist and draw him closer. Genji was momentarily startled, and then again when the monk chuckled below him “What’s wrong?”, he asked “You look flustered”, he said teasingly.

 

“I guess I am”, he confessed, the tips of his ears reddening. “I just wasn't expecting you to do something like that. You’ve been pretty subdued so far.” 

 

“Do you doubt the intensity of my affections for you Genji? Because I can assure you they run very deep”, he said, one hand gently rapping under the metal plating of his side, and the other trailing down the inside of his thigh. “Perhaps you need another demonstration?”, Zenyatta asked, stroking down his spine, going to a spot he already knew was sensitive. Genji shuddered. “Or should I simply tell you?”, he asked, close to his ear. 

 

Genji nuzzled his face into the side of his neck “How about a little of both?” 

 

“Very well”, Zenyatta answered simply, as his hands smoothed over his shoulders. “I have never cared for anyone the way I care for you.” 

 

Genji smiled, elated “I feel the same way”, he answered.

 

Zenyatta brought his hands down his sides, over the expanse of his back, rubbing tender circles there. “You’re beautiful. The loveliest person I’ve ever seen”, he said, his tone nearing reverence. “My day does not truly begin until I have seen your face. I could go hours listening to the sound of your voice, your laugh, your teasing”, he said with a low chuckle. 

 

“You’re too good to me”, Genji said hanging his head, gathering Zenyatta against him, his knees feeling ready to buckle underneath him from those impassioned words. 

 

“I endeavor to be better”, he answered, as Genji kissed him again. “That’s what I should be saying”, he said, before lowering his head to lave over that same node along his torso, and he heard Zenyatta’s breathless sighs give way to a low moan. Genji looked up to see Zenyatta’s long fingers over the seam of his faceplate, his other hand gripping the bedsheets. He let loose a quiet sigh as he went back to work, kissing along his torso, his tongue dipping in between exposed and coiled wires. He worked his way down his body, his hands moving down his legs, caressing along his calves until he was positioned between his legs. He busied himself with kissing him along the inside of his leg, his tongue dragging over a small sensor on his hip until his low moans became urgent ones, and he suddenly, and abruptly came. Genji slowly moved until he was on his back, gathering Zenyatta in his arms. 

 

Zenyatta sighed, nuzzling against him “Thank you”, he said happily. 

 

“You enjoyed it then?” 

 

“Of course, I think I made that fairly obvious.” 

 

“Hm, I’m not so sure about that”, Genji said, suddenly feeling mischievous.

 

“Oh? What would you have preferred?”

 

“Maybe if you screamed my name”, he said with an impish grin “Then I would say it was obvious.”

 

“I suppose I can always save that for next time”, he said with a dismayed shake of his head followed by a gentle laugh as Genji insistently kissed him again. They stayed like that, kissing in the brilliant afterglow until finally Genji relented out of fatigue and he fell asleep against the warmth of Zenyatta’s chest and to the gentle whir of his hardware.

 

Genji woke slowly the next morning. Usually, he was the first one to jump out of bed, he had always been like that even as a child, eager to get out into the world and feel the solid ground beneath his feet. But today he was simply content to just lay there, to let himself stay nestled underneath the gentle warmth of the blankets. To stretch his arms above his head simply because he could, careful not to wake his partner who was still tucked snugly next to him. He smiled to himself, his thoughts going back to the previous night. A night that easily put all others to shame he thought, as he lovingly pressed gentle kisses to Zenyatta’s faceplate, his hand ghosting over his shoulder, his side, down his hip. 

 

“Ah, a most welcome way to wake up”, Zenyatta said fondly, his orbs rotating around them slowly. 

 

He made to get up but Genji gently pushed him back down. “Don’t get up yet”, he said, kissing the side of his neck.

 

“You are incorrigible”, he said affectionately, his finger smoothing down the length of his nose, along his jaw. 

 

Genji sighed “How can I not be with someone like you in my bed?”, he asked, feeling breathless and overjoyed. 

 

Zenyatta sighed, as if put-upon. “I suppose I can indulge you. But any more than this and I fear you will grow spoiled”, he said teasingly.

 

“Spoil me then”, Genji said kissing further down his neck “Didn’t you say once that someone like me deserves everything his heart desires?”

 

“I believe I said that in jest after you lost several games at the arcade”, he said with a chuckle.

 

“But didn’t you also say that words should be carefully chosen? For like an arrow once loosed, they cannot be easily returned.” 

 

Zenyatta laughed lightly “Who is the master and who is the pupil I wonder?”, he said, tenderly caressing the side of his face, Genji leaned into the touch with a soft sigh, closing his eyes. 

 

“I still have a lot to learn from you, about you”, he said softly. 

 

“And I you”, Zenyatta answered, his fingers tracing the hard line of his jaw. “Though I’m loath to admit that there are probably other ways of achieving that goal outside the bedroom”, he said with a contented sigh. 

 

“Yes, but you have to admit that some of the most enjoyable ways are still in here”, he said as he crept on top of him. Determined to keep him there as long as the monk would allow.

 

They spent another hour like that before Zenyatta said they really should be on their way. He reluctantly let him go to get dressed and within a few short minutes he had left to go check out. While he waited for him to return he checked his phone, surprised to see a single text from a familiar number that simply read _Laying low._ Genji was too relieved to grow angry over how long it had taken to get the response. “And he called me cryptic”, he thought with a roll of his eyes.

 _Good. Are you ok?_ He frantically texted back, and within a minute he had another reply. 

_Doing good. Can’t say the same for my back though. Guess I got used to sleeping on mattresses that weren’t busted to hell and back._

He paused, not sure whether to bring up the touchy subject of Reyes and the demolished Swiss base. But he realized they would have never gotten this far, never would have formed this bond of friendship if Jesse hadn’t tried to go out on a limb for him. If he hadn’t tried to understand some of his suffering, hadn’t tried to console him in his own way, then they would have simply remained as they were when they first met. Two strangers brought together only by necessity.

_Jesse. I heard about Reyes. I’m sorry._

There was a long pause before he got a response. _Nothing much to apologize for. You’re not the one who blew the Swiss base sky high._

_I know. But even so I wanted to know if you’re ok._

There was another pause, longer this time. _Can’t say I am. Wish I could though._

_It’s only been a few weeks it will take time to heal._

_Listen to you. Sounding all wise. When did that happen?_

_Are you saying I’ve sounded foolish all this time then?_

_Never said that._

_You just implied it then?_

_Damn fella. Get off my case. Weren’t you trying to cheer me up?_

_I was but now I’m just trying to harass you._

_Yeah I got that much. But I’m fine really._

_Are you sure about that?_

There was a 5-minute lull before he got a text back. _Gabe always did want to go out in style. They gave him a huge statue and a flashy memorial service right alongside his man Morrison._

_That’s the least they can do for all he’s done. Do they know who or what caused the explosion?_

_Naw. Right now they’re ruling it as an accident. Just doesn’t sit right with me though. The two de facto leaders of Overwatch in the same spot and the place just blows?_

_So what do you think it was? Talon? Internal sabotage?_

_Maybe. Shit that’s crazy to think about._

_But something that should be considered._

_Yeah when these damn fools stop hounding me. I’ve been out here for a week and already all these two-bit bounty hunters have been coming out the woodwork. Nothing to write home about though it was barely worth loading my gun over._

_Even so I’m glad you’re ok. I didn’t know what to think when I saw the Swiss base reduced to rubble._

_Don’t blame ‘ya it was not a pretty sight._

_Yeah. Do you know how the others are doing?_

_Don’t know about Angela. She kinda fell off the map after what went down. Lena and Reinhardt have been manning damage control but who knows if it’ll take. As for everyone else they’re all off doing their own thing._

Genji considered Jesse’s words. His thoughts easily turning back to his own wayward existence, to his friends and allies seemingly scattered across the globe. What kind of life were they destined to lead now as the remnants of a broken and outlawed empire? 

_Hey don’t worry about them though. They’re all doing ok. Just trying to get over the shock._ He texted after a few moments of silence on Genji’s end. 

_Right. Sorry._

_Ain’t no sorry. It was good to hear from ‘ya as always. Look I got to go. But I’ll try to keep you posted if anything comes up alright?_

_Right._ He texted back and with that his phone went silent. His mind turned back to Reinhardt, Lena, Symmetra, Torbjorn, Angela, and all the nameless agents uprooted by that organization’s untimely fall. Their monikers lost to the brackish mire of his memories, their faces all blurred together by the haze of time and a mind that until recently had only been occupied with the flora and fauna of the past. He thought about the Swiss base laying in ruins from the explosion caused by some anonymous force, or by some act of the universe itself. He thought about the watchpoint that now laid abandoned on that tiny inlet. That cramped space of his room laying untouched, with his few belongings, gathered over time stuffed haphazardly on their shelves, the bedsheets undoubtedly still disheveled. His mind turned to his room in Nepal, even more sparsely outfitted than his room at Gibraltar, but surprisingly the one that felt the most comfortable. The only room that belonged to him was back in Hanamura and technically that space was no longer in his possession, even though all of his things were neatly tucked away in boxes. That same room was the one he had shared with Hanzo for 10 years. He wondered about Hanzo finally. Was he living a nomadic life like him? Where was he now? What was he doing? He hated to admit it, but with everything that had happened he had neglected his plans to look for him, perhaps he had even willingly put it out of his mind.

 

He would have liked to blame his forgetfulness entirely on the demise of Overwatch. That its fall had completely taken away his attention and refocused it on the frantic and panicked pursuit of Jesse, on the slow burning grief over Reyes’ death, or on the myriad of questions that were raised as soon as the base had gone up in flames. He could have forgotten it amidst his attempts to soothe Zenyatta, or even because of the night they had spent wrapped together delirious with passion. But he couldn’t lay blame on any of those things, he could only blame it on his own reluctance. Going after Hanzo brought so many things into question; how deep was his suffering? Did he even want to be found? He had relayed these questions and more to Zenyatta multiple times to the point that even he was growing tired with his never ending inquiries and worries. But Zenyatta never seemed to tire of him, every time he would utter those quiet words of his concern Zenyatta would warmly and easily help to lay his fears to rest. He knew sooner or later he would have to stop questioning things, stop wondering about the validity of his feelings, and finally, make moves to find Hanzo. But even with that thought in mind, he was still filled with a strange mixture of reluctance and anxious anticipation at the prospect of beginning his search. He wasn’t even sure where to begin and his mind worked to find different avenues he could travel, other means of acquiring the information he needed. But he couldn’t see a clear way to find him until his thoughts once again returned to the watchpoint. It had to stand abandoned now, but there probably was still a good deal of information in Athena’s data banks. But considering the less than peaceful way Overwatch had ended it was bound to be guarded. 

 

“You look concerned Genji”, Zenyatta commented, as he strode back in the room. 

 

“I am”, he confessed. 

 

“What’s troubling you?”, he asked, sitting next to him. 

 

“The fall of Overwatch has me anxious”, he said “That and I’m wondering how I’m going to find Hanzo. We could return back to Hanamura, but I honestly don’t want to go back”, he said with a bit of a shiver. 

 

“I understand why”, Zenyatta said, taking his hand “What are you thinking of doing?” 

 

“I don't know”, Genji answered, intertwining their fingers together “I have an idea but I’m not sure it will work.” 

 

“Don’t undermine your idea so quickly Genji, not before you have truly considered it.” 

 

“Right”, he said with a brief nod. “There's a large database that has information on all the clan members. Some of the data may be incomplete, especially with all that’s happened. But I might be able to use the system to track down Hanzo.” 

 

“That sounds like an excellent idea.” 

 

“It would be if there wasn’t a catch. The database is at Overwatch’s watchpoint in Gibraltar and I’m not sure if we’d even be able to get close to it.” 

 

“We will never know until we try.” 

 

“There will probably be guards, a lot of them.” 

 

“A chance to broaden our group of allies.” 

 

“I doubt they would suddenly swear loyalty to us no matter how charming you may be.” 

 

“I would never assume such a thing, but perhaps at the very least we could persuade them to simply let us have a look and then be on our way.”

 

“I wish I had your attitude about this.” 

 

“We all have our strengths Genji. The world is in need of all kinds of people.” 

 

“I wish it had more people like you.” 

 

“An interesting notion, but I am by no means perfect. Though, I would hope for a world with more understanding.” 

 

Genji smiled. “It’s going to be dangerous you know”, he said, his voice grave, his expression somber. 

 

“Or it might not be.” 

 

“You can’t assume that.” 

 

“Just as you can’t assume that things will go poorly. I understand your reluctance, but if this is the best option I believe we should take it.” 

 

“I think so too.” 

 

“Then why the hesitation?”

 

“I just don’t want to see you injured again, like what happened with that Bastion unit”, he said, his fingers running over the place where the metal had been split. There was no mark, no evidence that it had ever happened, but he could see it so clearly in his mind that he had to shake his head. His eyes seemingly warping smooth metal into that superficial wound. 

 

“That will not happen again.” 

 

“There’s a chance that it could. That something worse could happen. We’re not supposed to be anywhere near there and all operations under Overwatch have been shut down and outlawed. There’s a chance that we may not even find anything.” 

 

Zenyatta’s hands left his and came up to cradle the back of his head. “You’re frightened”, he said matter of factly, his voice pleasantly calm.

 

“Of course”, he huffed, feeling foolish. Zenyatta kissed the top of his head, he sighed as he brought the monk into a tight embrace. 

 

“I understand that fear.” 

 

“You do?” 

 

“Of course I do. I felt much the same way when I saw you had been injured back in Hanamura, or when you fell from the cliff, or even when you collapsed after the fight with that assassin.” 

 

“Looks like I’ve done nothing but frighten you”, he said with a rueful smile. 

 

“Yes, it would seem so. Which is precisely why I asked that you not run off anymore. I’m not sure my system can continue to take such shocks.” 

 

“Don’t underestimate yourself, you’re stronger than you look.” 

 

Zenyatta chuckled “Perhaps, but my heart could not easily take it.” 

 

“Do you really think this is the best thing to do?” 

 

“Perhaps it is not the best. But the only other option is to do nothing, and I know that wouldn’t sit well with you.” 

 

“No, it wouldn’t”, he said, the memory of his brother’s pained expression clear in his mind. “At the very least I should try to find him.” 

 

“So, then we must take this course of action.” 

 

“Even if it’s dangerous?” 

 

“Living is dangerous, there are no guarantees in this world. But better to truly live and nurse our wounds, than regret a life squandered.” 

 

“Do you have an answer for everything?” 

 

“No, for example, if you asked me what I liked most about you I would be hard pressed to answer.” 

 

“You’re too good to me.” 

 

“I endeavor to be better.”

 

“I don’t think that's possible”, Genji answered fondly as he kissed him. Only stopping long enough to search on his phone for the quickest flight to Gibraltar.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji and Zenyatta meet with some difficulty as they begin their search for Hanzo, and find out some shocking news.

The flight out of India took longer than expected. Delays regarding weather and a problem with the plane kept them there for several days longer than Genji had anticipated. He would have spent that time angrily muttering about the inconvenience of it all had Zenyatta not been there with soothing words and a few gentle kisses laid along the line of his jaw. He instead spent his time idling with him through the city, retiring to their room at night where Zenyatta handed him the letters from Suman who laid out the broad events and gentle minutiae of the monastery. He told them about the poor weather; a storm that had moved in from the west and brought heavy rains and winds that uprooted trees and scattered the tiles off of roofs. He wrote about days spent meditating in those cool chambers lit only by gentle candle light, the progress of the goldcrest hatchlings and their tentative first flights soaring over the snow, Mondatta’s soon to be speech, and the status of Zenyatta’s plants in his room. Genji found a simple joy in his words, but couldn’t find himself as deeply enthralled with talk of Zenyatta’s chameleon plants outgrowing their pots, or the goldcrests gentle chattering in their tidy nest. His mind was preoccupied as usual with matters that lay ahead of them, the most pressing issue being how he was going to get the information he needed to find Hanzo. 

 

Had this been a few short months ago the task would have been easy, but now with Overwatch gone, things had been made considerably more difficult and to make matters worse he had no idea what his brother was thinking. What was his pattern of operation? Where would he choose to go after that night in the castle? He had spent long hours as they waited for their flight trying to work out the arcane puzzle of Hanzo’s mind, trying to think back to their days spent training together for any clues of how we would operate. He couldn’t recall anything except for a few simple phrases he had given him one afternoon as Genji had thrown down his gear in frustration at a training exercise in stealth that had gone poorly. “Stealth isn’t just about trying to avoid detection. It’s also about observation, subtlety, and thinking ahead”, he said as Genji merely nodded his head in acknowledgment. “Observe your surroundings and think about the situation you’re presented with. Sometimes it's best to hide in plain sight, other times you need to be less conspicuous”, he had told him, as he took off his gear and headed to their room. Genji hadn’t truly taken that lesson to heart, his mind preoccupied with other things as always, now though it helped him to begin to puzzle out what his brother’s train of thought might be. Obviously, wherever Hanzo was he would make sure to stay undetected and in a place where few would expect him. He could only hope for all of his brother’s training that he would have made some kind of misstep that would aid him in finding him. Even with those memories to guide him, there was still a multitude of questions that still lacked answers, and it only helped to agitate him further until Zenyatta came over to still the incessant drumming of his fingers against the table. 

 

“You’re restless I see”, he said warmly. 

 

“What gave it away?”, he asked with a rueful smile. 

 

“Just this”, Zenyatta answered, tapping the top of his hand lightly. “The answers you seek will be revealed in due time”, he said taking a seat next to him. 

 

“If we can even get into the watchpoint.”

 

“You think we’ll meet with a lot of resistance?” 

 

“We’re bound to. The UN, the police, who knows”, he said with a frustrated sigh. 

 

“Ah, that’s just it.” 

 

“What is?” 

 

“We don’t know what the outcome will be, so why fear the worst? I have found when you expect only ill that’s all you will find. But if you think positively it is much easier to see the good that can come.”

 

“I suppose.” 

 

“Does that seem doubtful?”, Zenyatta asked curiously. 

 

“No, no, I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my mind”, Genji replied, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to relieve some of the tension there. 

 

“Perhaps it would benefit you to talk about it.” 

 

“I’m not sure you’d want to hear it.” 

 

“I could never tire of listening to you Genji, whether it be your joys or your concerns.” 

 

“You say that now.” 

 

“I will continue to say it because it is the truth.” 

 

“Alright”, Genji said, drawing closer to him and taking his hand. “I’m not sure where Hanzo might be. He was there that night to honor me before we were attacked, but it’s hard to say whether that was routine or something he’d just started”, he sighed. “If I had been smart I would have trailed him to see where he went afterward.”

 

“You had good reason not to”, Zenyatta insisted, putting a hand firmly on his side where Hanzo’s arrow had struck him.“Do you think he’d remain close by? Perhaps somewhere else in Japan?” 

 

Genji paused “Most likely, I can’t see him straying too far. Wherever he is, I’m sure he’s trying to lay low.” 

 

“Because of the clan.” 

 

“Yes, and also because that’s just how he always was. Hanzo stood out because of his name and who he was as the oldest heir to the clan. But now I’m not really sure if he ever wanted any of that, he always seemed happiest when things were quiet when he could just observe from afar. It had made him more adept at stealth than me for a long time. Wherever he is it will probably take some time to find him.” 

 

“I have confidence that you will come across him soon, wherever he may be.” 

 

“Maybe.”

 

“You sound uncertain.”

 

“I am about everything right now”, he confessed with a low sigh. 

 

Zenyatta kissed the top of his head “I will simply have to have faith for the both of us then”, he declared.

 

They were finally able to leave for Gibraltar the next morning. As they soared over seemingly endless miles of ocean and over expansive cloud banks Genji considered the fact that he might not glean any information from the watchpoint. That they might be turned away on sight, or Athena’s database would be wiped clean, all traces of valuable information scoured away and replaced with a blank screen. He felt a cool hand take his own squeezing it gently, he squeezed back leaning against Zenyatta. He thought about his words the other night, low and soothing in his mind to try to have a more positive outlook on things. He couldn’t remember if he had such a pessimistic view of things before the accident, he didn’t have much time to think back then. Continually swept up in the pleasures of what he considered now to be a hollow and stilted life of raucous parties, and nights spent under a waning moon. 

 

He thought he might be able to have a better outlook on things now. But as they drew closer to their destination the staggering weight of those unanswered questions seemed far more pressing than that budding sense of hopefulness and optimism he was slowly trying to cultivate. The flight was fairly uneventful, they spent it in relative silence the only real noise being Genji drumming his fingers against the arm of the chair until he felt cool fingers slide along the back of his neck, a temporary balm. When they finally landed Genji searched along the coast for some kind of deal on a boat rental. After a few inquiries that ultimately led nowhere he ended up paying a man a good number of credits for a tiny boat with a wheel rather than touch screens, and a long jagged line cutting through the side that looked like it had only recently been patched. At this point he didn’t think to question it, he merely ushered Zenyatta aboard and they rode out onto the placid waters.

 

As they sailed over the gentle waves, Zenyatta admiring the seagulls that soared overhead and the gentle lapping of the tide against the side of the boat, Genji allowed himself to think of their destination. Not as it was now, but as it had been. Back when he first arrived he had never considered the beauty of the watchpoint. His first weeks there he had seen it as more of a prison than a second home, the site of where he lost his independence and became a weapon for Overwatch. His first night outside of the med bay he had spent pacing the floor with barely contained fury and a restlessness that drove him to spend the night awake, tossing and turning in his bed, begrudgingly marveling at the fact that he could feel the solid weight of the mattress underneath him. The other agents gave him a wide berth, not by choice, many of them were friendly to the point of being a nuisance. It was more that he quickly garnered the reputation of being quick to anger and eager to lash out. He spent long hours in solitude, training on the range under the heat of the sun, only the seabirds and the crash of the waves for company. He pushed himself past the point of exhaustion, completely detaching himself from the dull ache in his limbs and the loud creaking of his joints. Angela had nothing but admonishment for him which all fell on deaf ears. 

 

This body wasn’t truly his. It had been reduced to a tool, a strange vessel for his spirit to inhabit. She had warned him about that sense of detachment, how it could prove to be dangerous in the future. But he had no time to heed her pleas to be more careful, nor the time to have her examine him. Back then he was only interested in one goal, and that was the destruction of the clan. All other things, even his own health, and wellbeing were meaningless next to that lofty ambition. He still clearly remembered that person with the foul words and the repugnant attitude. To compare how he was now and how he behaved then felt impossible. He felt as if that version of himself was someone else entirely, someone he didn’t recognize, another consciousness that had stolen control of his body for far too long and had been able to put a wedge between him and others and even delay his own happiness out of spite. He had been too suspicious of people back then, seeing every stare as one of judgment, and mistaking their words of encouragement for misplaced pity. He understood now how wrong he had been. He had to wonder how anyone managed to put up with him back then.

 

“Be at ease Genji, all will go well”, Zenyatta said, suddenly next to him as he continued to steer the boat, somehow keeping on course despite his meandering thoughts. 

 

“I am at ease”, he answered weakly.

 

“I'm afraid I'm not inclined to believe you with the way you’ve been drumming your fingers against the wheel”, he said, laying his hand down to rub along Genji’s wrist.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m just anxious.” 

 

“I understand why”, he said bringing his arm around Genji’s middle, a fleeting touch but one that helped to chase away the thick and gauzy haze of anxiety that had plagued him ever since they boarded their tiny vessel. “I would suggest that you take a moment and meditate to clear your mind but considering where we are that may not be the best choice.” 

 

“Well, I know something that would help calm my nerves”, Genji said suggestively.

 

“As exciting as that prospect sounds I think it best we wait”, he said with a faint laugh. Genji groaned softly as Zenyatta patted his back apologetically “Patience Genji.” 

 

“You should know by now that I’m not a patient man.” 

 

“I am well aware”, he chuckled “But it is never too late to make a change for the better.” 

 

“I don’t think any amount of meditation can change that.” 

 

Zenyatta merely hummed “I suppose we will have to simply wait and see.”

 

The watchpoint stood abandoned on that tiny inlet, nestled into the cliff and enclosed by towering rock formations that housed droves of squabbling gulls. The watchtower itself shone golden in the sunlight, its flag still untouched flapping wildly in the breeze. They had been sailing relatively well, thankfully not meeting any other ships along the way. He was glad for it, it was going to be hard enough to get inside. The tide brought them close, but he observed a well-sized transport stationed at the coast with the UN’s insignia on the side. He hissed under his breath, he knew it wouldn’t be easy but considering the size of the aircraft, there were most likely a good amount of agents here. He looked around trying to find the best place where they could tie up the boat and settled upon a spot further down the beach. As soon as his feet hit the sand he felt that same feeling of anxiety overtake him, completely unsure of how to proceed. He stood by their tiny vessel, leaning against it, trying to get his bearings and think of what he could say to get them in when he noticed Zenyatta taking slow measured strides up the beach towards the watchpoint. He quickly abandoned the boat to follow after him. 

 

“What are you doing?”, he asked, nearly panicked. 

 

“Making my way to our destination.”

 

“I see that”, Genji said, rolling his eyes behind his visor. “I mean what are you planning to do when you get there? Just ask them to let us in?”

 

“We are not going to ask.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“We are going to tell them.” 

 

“We’re going to tell that we’re trying to track down the heir to the Shimada clan and just hope they let us do it?” 

 

“No, we are going to tell them that we have been in Nepal for the past few weeks, unable to return due to the poor weather.” 

 

Genji thought about the letter Suman had sent, describing the violent storm that had plagued the mountains. “What are we doing here then? I doubt they’ll believe us if we tell them we hadn’t heard the news.” 

 

“Which is precisely why we are going to tell them we are here to retrieve your belongings. You did say you had left behind a good deal of your things here, correct?” 

 

“I did”, he replied, thinking back to his hastily made departure all those months ago. 

 

“Well then I believe this is the best way to get in, rather than having to resort to incapacitating people”, he said, giving his arm a fleeting caress.

 

“I wouldn’t have done that”, Genji grumbled behind him. 

 

“You looked as if you were readying yourself for such an occasion”, Zenyatta answered teasingly. 

 

“I was not”, Genji protested, coming up alongside him. “Though I have to admit I’m surprised. I would have never expected you of lying”, he said, gently elbowing his side with a smirk on his face.

 

“We are not lying, we were in Nepal not that long ago, we just weren’t caught in the storm. And there is no lie in that your possessions are here, you should have the chance to retrieve them.” 

 

Genji couldn’t argue with him, it was a good plan, provided the agents they spoke to weren’t overly suspicious. It also did save them potentially trying to take out a horde of UN agents who had to have them outgunned. Better to hide in plain sight he supposed, as he kissed the side of Zenyatta’s face “That definitely puts my plan to shame”, he said with a sigh. 

 

“It was not the worst plan.” 

 

“But it wasn’t great either.”

 

“I’d prefer you not put yourself down simply to flatter me.” 

 

“You’re right, I’ll save the flattery for if this plan actually works.” 

 

“Ah, a challenge then. One I am sure I will be able to surpass.” 

 

“When did you become so arrogant?”, Genji teased. 

 

“There is nothing wrong with having confidence in oneself. It is after all one of the first things needed for such grand undertakings”, he said, as they made the quick ascent up the rocks, passing the tarmac, and heading for the front entrance. There was a stocky man standing guard there with a pulse rifle in his hands and a stern look about him. “No civilians allowed”, he stated gruffly.

 

“We’re not civilians”, Genji answered, “We both acted as members of Overwatch before it was shut down.” 

 

“Which is all the more reason for you not to be here.” 

 

“The only reason we’re here is because we never had a chance to pick up our belongings. We would have been here earlier but we were on a mission in Nepal and then a storm hit, stranding us there”, Genji replied, only mildly annoyed.

 

“We understand your reluctance in this matter, but he has left quite a few items of sentimental value here. It should only take a few moments for him to retrieve them”, Zenyatta added.

 

The agent looked between them “You’ve got 10 minutes.” 

 

“Thank you”, they said quickly, as they made their way inside and walked down the hallway. 

 

“That doesn’t give us much time”, Genji groused. 

 

“Better to have a little time than none at all.”

 

“I guess, but I’m not even sure if I can still get into the system.” 

 

“I’m sure you will find a way”, Zenyatta answered, as they traversed the long and narrow hallway to his room. He vaguely remembered the entrance code, and after 4 attempts he managed to get in. Everything was just as he had left it. The sheets and comforter were still in a total state of disarray, a few books and volumes of classic manga sat on the dusty shelves. There were several mugs on the bedside table, some of them cracked, some still filled with the remnants of old beverages and dried out tea bags. He had a small laptop they had gifted him sitting open on the table with the crumpled remains of several goodbye letters spread over the keyboard, while the others sat in the trash can nearby. 

 

“So, this was your room”, Zenyatta said, looking around.

 

“Yes, for awhile.” 

 

“It certainly has your kind of aesthetic”, he said teasingly. 

 

“Sorry I didn’t have time to clean up”, Genji answered with a faint laugh. 

 

“No, it would not be your room if it were overly tidy. Do you think you’ll take any of these things with you?”

 

Genji observed the room “Maybe”, he said as he considered some of the books on the second shelf. They had been books Jesse had lent him, though he hadn’t gotten around to reading some of them yet. _At the Mountains of Madness, The Dark Tower I: The Gunslinger, Dr. Faustus_ ; he had to give it to Jesse, the man was well read. He pushed the books aside in search of his old phone, when he didn’t find it on any of the shelves he began to look through the drawers. He found it under some discarded work-out clothes and turned it on only to see a blank screen. He rummaged around for the charger “I should still be able to log onto Athena’s database”, he said as he located it and plugged the phone in. The screen immediately lit up and he scrolled down a long list of text messages, mostly from Jesse asking him of his whereabouts, and a few from Angela scolding him for leaving without saying goodbye and then a few that sounded strangely wistful. He swiped them aside and tried to recollect his password to log-in. It came to him suddenly; the date of the day they brought him here, acting at one time as some kind of bitter reminder of his hijacked freedom, now just a tasteless joke. He punched it in and Athena’s logo blinked to life before abruptly sputtering to darkness. 

 

“Damn it.” 

 

“What’s wrong?” 

 

“Athena’s system is down. I don’t know why I thought it would still be functioning”, he said, and then was suddenly forced to pause and think. “Wait, master, you said you used to override AI.”

 

“Yes, although that was rather long ago.” 

 

“Where did all that self-confidence go?”, Genji asked, only mildly teasing him. “I’m sure you can do the same here.”

 

“The technology has surely changed in these past few years, but I am willing to try. Though I fear we will definitely raise suspicions.” 

 

“Then I’ll just have to fall back on my first plan.” 

 

“I doubt we will need to resort to aggression and even if we did it seems unwise considering these are high ranking officials.” 

 

“Zenyatta, I come from a criminal empire. I am not really inclined to authority”, he said, as the monk merely shook his head. 

 

They made their way out into the hall, he looked around, no one was in sight. They walked down the corridor and took three lefts until they were in front of the lab door. Just as he suspected it was locked, he tried to recollect what the entrance code might be but before he could Zenyatta had sidled up next to him and was observing the small control panel. He stooped slightly to get a better look, his fingers stroking his chin. Just as Genji was going to ask if he would be able to get them in he had deftly swiped through two displays and keyed in several strings of numbers and within a minute the door had opened. “I suppose the more things change, the more they remain the same”, Zenyatta said, sounding only moderately surprised. They walked inside, to their luck no one was there. He suspected if anyone was going to clear out the data they most likely had already done it, but still held onto the hope that they would be able to find something. Zenyatta surveyed the room in a single sweeping motion of his head. He headed over to one of the larger screens mounted on the wall as Genji shut the door and it automatically locked. “Do you think you can get it working? We don’t have much time left”, Genji said looking to his phone. 

 

“I should be able to, but it will take a moment”, Zenyatta replied, as he booted up the computer. Once again Athena’s systems flared to life only to quickly die again. He pulled up a screen that asked for an access code, he pulled up another inputting a long line of numbers and letters and within the next moment he had what he needed. He punched it in and a long list of folders scrolled down the screen at an alarming pace. He came up to hug Zenyatta from behind.

 

“You are a miracle worker”, he said, elated. 

 

“That would imply that I had some divine attributes.” 

 

“You might”, Genji said fondly, as he reluctantly let him go and began to scroll through the folders. He opened one to see a long directory of mission logs, some of which were rather old. He clicked through file after file until finally, he saw one that mentioned the name; Shimada. Genji’s eyes quickly darted to the hastily written disposition “No escapees, 20 guards dispatched, 9 taken into custody. Could not locate oldest Shimada heir.” There was a PDF file attached, he brought it up to see a list of his father’s subordinates, their names redacted from his memory, lost to time. He scrolled through them to see a photo of Hanzo as he was back then, his hair long and with the eyes of a much calmer man. He chose another folder further down the list and within a second there was a long index of articles that came up. He scrolled to the most recent ones, there wasn't a wealth of information on Hanzo, but instead, he found an article with a headline that made his mouth run dry.

 

 _Shimada-gumi Reformation Spearheaded by Shimada Daisuke_. Genji quickly shook off that fleeting sensation of disbelief. Honestly, he had suspected the clan’s return all along, it was obvious considering the number of guards that had been patrolling the grounds that night. But even so, it did burn his lungs with a suffocating anxiousness to see his fears confirmed. As his eyes scanned the article he tried to rack his mind for the name Daisuke. He thought back to his father’s subordinates, his relatives, uncles, cousins, their connections to him becoming all the more tenuous, many of them merely just riding the wave of the family’s success. Ultimately the name sounded familiar but he couldn’t place the face. Features borrowed from barely memorized profiles of the past ran together until they combined into someone who looked vaguely like that nameless guard he had knocked out at the gate. 

 

Genji put aside his thoughts and refocused on the article. He quickly scrolled down, passing some low-res photos of abandoned omniums on the Nansei Islands and in the Japanese countryside, supposedly acting as the site of some of the clan’s activities. They were cutting it close and he still hadn’t seen any relevant information about Hanzo. He gave up on the article and simply did a quick search, several folders came up, one that was fairly recent. He clicked on it to see a few logs that had details on his brother’s movements, the last file was a few weeks before he had seen him in Hanamura. Apparently, he was staying on the island of Okinawa, previous to that he was in Miyako but had made several trips back to the castle. Genji was baffled. He hadn’t really expected him to keep making pilgrimages back home, and certainly not so frequently. Did his guilt truly run that deep? He was suddenly overcome with a sense of reluctant sympathy for Hanzo that he refused to dwell on long as he observed the pattern of his route. If Hanzo was merely just island hopping like this information suggested, where would someone like him stay? Someone who wished to lay low, confine themselves to the shadows to evade the questions of overly curious onlookers and dodge the threats of a family he had left behind. He didn’t have to wonder long as the end of the report produced several holovids of footage from surveillance cameras that had recorded him darting towards a nondescript apartment complex on the outskirts of the city. His silhouette moving swiftly to one of the doors marked 36 on the east side of the building. 

 

Abruptly he felt fatigued, he leaned on Zenyatta who had been silent next to him. Obviously content to simply let him absorb the information he needed. “Are you alright Genji?”, he asked.

 

“I am”, he answered, a little weary. “That was just a lot to take in.” 

 

“I would imagine so”, he replied softly. “But at the very least you can be content in knowing where to look for your brother.”

 

Genji didn’t have time to reply, he heard footsteps and a pair of agitated men’s voices coming from the other side of the door. “I forgot the passcode”, said one of them. 

 

“I’ve told it to you 10 times already”, barked another voice, ripe with irritation. “Move aside, I’ll just do it.”

 

Genji was thrown into a cresting wave of panic as he grabbed Zenyatta by the wrist and pulled him to the other door that led out of the lab. Just then he heard the door behind them open. “What are you two doing in here?”, one of the voices asked. 

 

He turned then to see two men standing in the open doorway, pulse rifles in hand, and a look of suspicion in their eyes. “What are you doing in here?”, one of them repeated as Genji moved in front of Zenyatta. He heard the faint tapping of the monk’s fingers on the touch screen and was reassured that if his lie didn’t work, at the very least they would have another way out. “I had forgotten that I had some important files left in the database. I couldn’t access them on my phone so I thought might be able to in here”, Genji said, all too aware that it was a flimsy lie. The agent seemed to think the same, he didn’t respond his hands merely tensed before moving to what he recognized to be a stun gun, the other traveling to the com link in his ear as Genji heard the door open behind him. Before he could even think to react, he felt Zenyatta pull him through the exit, a shot from the agent’s stun gun just barely missing his arm. They ran down the hallway towards the shooting range, the sound of heavy footfalls and agitated shouts close behind them as they dashed out into the fading sunlight.

 

“Stop!”, bellowed another agent high atop the cliff. They didn’t heed them. They continued their run towards the beach, the transport and their small boat just barely coming into view as he heard the incessant yells of several men up on the cliff issuing orders for their detainment. The pair advanced towards the shore as he saw grenades that resembled Jesse’s flashbangs break far too close to their feet, the light of their impact temporarily blinding him. Dark spots still obscured his vision as he felt a cool hand around his wrist, pulling him along at a somewhat sluggish pace. “Were you hit?”, he asked shakily, as they slid down a rocky incline. “Partially, but I should be fine”, Zenyatta answered, his voice shockingly calm. Genji heard the discordant shouts of the agents closing in behind them, his lungs beginning to heave with panic and exertion as he realized with a kind of resigned sense of anger that they wouldn’t reach the boat in time. Suddenly, before he let that feeling envelop him, his eyes snapped to the UN’s transport. Zenyatta was still holding on to his wrist he realized, as he redirected them away from the shoreline. “What are you doing?”, Zenyatta asked, sounding mildly alarmed. 

 

“Something stupid”, Genji answered. 

 

Zenyatta seemed to catch on quickly because within the next minute he sighed loudly “I’m not sure this is wise.” 

 

“It isn’t”, Genji agreed “But we won’t make it to the boat at this rate, and I’d rather not spend the night in a detention cell.” 

 

Just then he heard the agents yelling back and forth, obviously realizing their plan. It was too late. They had already made it to the transport, the door left conveniently open. Within seconds they were inside heading for the control room, there was a man already there at the wheel, his hand went to his gun. Genji was quicker, throwing a shuriken that knocked it from his hand. “We need this ship”, he said, as he quickly drew his sword “I suggest you let us have it.”

 

“There is no need for threats”, Zenyatta admonished, directing his gaze towards the agent. “Would you please let us have control of this transport?”, he asked, so cordially that it left Genji completely dismayed. The man looked dumbfounded, his facial expression taking one of panic at Genji’s words and then utter confusion at Zenyatta’s cheerful request. 

 

“I can’t just let you have it”, he said, sounding baffled.

 

Genji looked out the expansive windows to see the other agents approaching the transport at a breakneck pace. “We don’t have time for negotiations”, he cried as he dragged the man out of his seat and struggled to get him out of the control room and into the hallway. Just as he had managed to pull the man towards the exit, ignoring his blind punches and sluggish swings, the other agents came bursting through the door their stunners ready, hands going to their guns. Genji had an advantage as they all struggled to make it inside, protocol falling away as panic and anger set in. He clumsily pushed the man out, he fell into several agents knocking some of them to the ground. One man closest to the door took the opportunity to lunge forward, pulling him by the tail end of his scarf. He was just barely able to awkwardly elbow him before he could pull him through the exit when he saw something streak past, a familiar glint of gold. He heard a smack and a groan as he looked to see the man shaking his head, one of Zenyatta’s orbs falling to the sand. The orb quickly moved back inside as he stumbled out of his reach and the door abruptly closed. Several bullets dented the metal of the entryway as he staggered down the corridor as the transport began to make its ascent, the beach dropping away as they steadily climbed into the air. He shuffled back into the control room to see Zenyatta at the helm, resplendent in the twilight. Once he had shaken off the sudden feeling of heat in his stomach he asked, “You can fly this thing?” 

 

“No”, Zenyatta answered “But most modern transports have an autopilot feature”, he said gesturing to the control panel. “Considering the way in which we made our exit I assume they’re going to follow us.” 

 

“They will, but it will take time to call in another transport and there wasn’t much gas left in the boat”, Genji said coming up next to him. “How long until we arrive in Okinawa?”

 

“At least 21 hours”, Zenyatta answered “Plenty of time for you to get some rest”, he said, ushering him to one of the seats. 

 

“What about you?”, Genji inquired, reluctantly sitting down, his whole body still tense with adrenaline.

 

“I am fine”, he assured him, “I think it best if you rest, though. After all, you were nearly involved in several fights since we arrived.”

 

“I was not”, Genji protested “All of it would have been self-defense.”

 

Zenyatta hummed lightly “I seem to recall differently.”

 

Genji grumbled, “You would.”

 

The monk laughed lightly coming over to stroke along the edge of his helm. “Forgive me dear one”, he said, his tone still laced with mirth.

 

“I’ll only forgive you if you do something for me”, Genji replied, petulant.

 

“I believe I have some inkling of what you want.”

 

“Do you?”

 

“Yes”, Zenyatta answered happily, coming around behind the chair, his hands moving to massage his shoulders. 

 

Genji laughed “Not what I had in mind. But I’ll take it for now.”

 

“I’ve truly been blessed with an understanding and patient partner”, Zenyatta said with a fond chuckle, as the transport quickly progressed towards the horizon.

 

After realizing half way through the flight that they wouldn’t make it to Okinawa before the gas tank was empty, they decided to land the transport at the coast of Ishigaki island. By the time they were able to set the transport on the beach it was already dark. Genji was thankful for it. Despite Zenyatta’s nimble fingers working out the dull ache in his shoulders and a few hastily stolen kisses he hadn’t rested well, too paranoid that they were being tracked, or would land only to be ambushed. Nothing of the kind had happened, yet, and after making doubly sure that no one was around they walked out onto the shore. Genji observed the white coral that littered the coastline and quickly realized that they had landed on Yonehara beach. In another life, he had come here unbeknownst to his father, a much-needed respite from the increasingly tense atmosphere of the castle. The airport was on the opposite side of the island, they would have to make a trek through the palm groves, and then take the plane eastward to Okinawa. From past experience, he knew the trail that cut through the grove was not overly long but just the idea of making the hike now seemed unbearable. He briefly considered trying to soldier on through that thick layer of fatigue when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

 

“Perhaps we should rest for the night. You didn’t get any time to do so on the way here.” 

 

“I was keeping an eye out”, he offered weakly, all too ready to collapse into Zenyatta's arms and fall asleep in his warm embrace. 

 

“Yes, at the expense of your nerves and your rest and I doubt you would be at ease sleeping out in the open”, Zenyatta said as he ushered him back to their commandeered airship. Genji couldn’t offer a retort, he didn’t have the energy, he allowed Zenyatta to lead him back inside where he took a seat in the control room. With a loud yawn he removed his faceplate and visor, Zenyatta took the seat next to him after locking the door. Even though it had been hours since they had left the watchpoint behind he still felt saturated with that same nervous energy, a feeling that was only dulled by a deep sense of frustration. There were still too many things to consider and this stolen transport only further complicated an already convoluted situation. If they were found, there would be no questions asked, no trial to prepare for, they would simply be escorted to a dank prison cell. And even if they did manage to go undetected there was still the question if they would truly be able to find Hanzo.

 

“Peace Genji. Be at peace”, Zenyatta said, his hands cool and soothing suddenly cupping his face. Smoothing out under his jaw, cradling the back of his head. Genji leaned forward, kissing him along the seam of his faceplate, pulling him closer until he had almost fallen in his lap.

 

“I’m sorry”, he said, spent. 

 

“You have nothing to apologize for. I understand your anxieties, but know that you are not facing these things alone.” 

 

“I’m glad I’m not. I’m also glad that we decided not to sleep on the beach. I don’t think sleeping on all that coral would be comfortable for very long.”

 

“It is doubtful, but the view would certainly be worth it.” 

 

“I have all the view I need right here”, he answered, as Zenyatta turned down the overhead lights plunging them into darkness, the pale light of the moon streaming in through the windows. 

 

The pair left the transport at dawn, just as the early morning sun began to color the tops of the palms a radiant orange. They took a trail that cut through the densest area of the grove and within a 20-minute walk found themselves on the eastern side of the island, the airport quickly coming into view. Genji would have preferred to take their time and let Zenyatta enjoy the island’s beauty, but their schedule was tight and he wanted to put as much distance between them and the UN’s airship as he could. While he bought the tickets for their flight he quickly checked his phone, no mentions of their escape from Gibraltar popped up in his newsfeed, most likely buried under reports of unrest in Russia and the remaining fallout of Overwatch’s fall. But it was only a matter of time he realized before a report was made public. Although he supposed they might want to keep this quiet, seeing as two people managed to steal a UN aircraft right from under their noses. Either way as soon as he procured their tickets he ushered Zenyatta over in the direction of the plane. When they were safely on board Genji let loose a breath that he hadn’t realized till that moment he had been holding, that same nervousness that had been slowly abated last night seemingly returning in full force. As Zenyatta took his hand he realized they hadn’t had much time to discuss any of what was going on. Between their search at Gibraltar and the subsequent escape their conversations had been abrupt exchanges, quickly cut short by nearly missed brawls and the threat of arrest. “I’m sorry”, he said suddenly.

 

“For what?”, Zenyatta inquired. 

 

“For being so anxious, for getting you involved in all this”, he said, gesturing to their surroundings. 

 

“It is not as if you coerced me into this Genji. I chose to do this, knowing the risks, because I wished to help you. I do not regret my decision”, he said softly, squeezing his hand. “Though I think we may have handled some of those situations back in Spain slightly better.” 

 

“What? You didn’t like my masterful escape?”, he asked, feigning hurt. 

 

“As skillful as it was I believe we might have avoided taking their transport.” 

 

“Maybe”, he conceded “Considering everything we got out of these fairly easily. They’ll probably be looking for us soon if they’re not already”, he said with a heavily labored sigh. 

 

“There is no use dwelling on the past. All we can do now is move forward”, Zenyatta said, observing the downward tilt of his head and the anxious movement of his fingers against the armrest.

 

Genji sighed “Once again you’re right”, he said putting his arm around the monk’s shoulders. 

 

“You sound as if that bothers you.” 

 

“It does”, Genji cried, dramatically clutching his chest. “Just once I wish you would say something foolish.” 

 

“Would it benefit you if I did?”, Zenyatta asked, sounding amused. 

 

“Maybe not physically, but it would definitely benefit my ego.” 

 

“I doubt your ego is in need of bolstering Genji”, Zenyatta said with a low chuckle.

 

The flight to Okinawa was thankfully a short one. After a few quick conversations and a brief nap, Zenyatta was nudging him awake. As they made their way into the airport he checked his phone again, still, no reports of their abrupt departure from Gibraltar or as Genji had originally feared, issues for their arrest. He understood though that they needed to be careful, they already drew attention and he knew it was only a matter of time before someone would come looking for them. Perhaps it was even sooner than he thought as he looked through the tittering crowd to see a man with piercing eyes staring back at him. The fact that he had fixed his gaze on them was enough to jolt Genji with panic, the man began to cut through the crowd with a decisive gait, one of his hands traveling the short distance to his ear. 

 

Genji didn’t have time to think he simply grabbed Zenyatta by the hand and fled. As they ran out into the street he heard the annoyed cries of the crowd as the lone man pushed past them, the sound of his heavy footfalls beating an ominous tattoo on the pavement behind them. They ran through a swarm of people, ignoring their angry shouts that came in their wake as they pushed through. They stopped at a corner, Genji frantically looked around, Zenyatta tugged on his hand pointing off to their left where their pursuer was quickly approaching. The man tried to grab him right as the light changed, he was just able to avoid his grasp as they darted across the street and back onto the sidewalk, their stalker wasted no time and drew ever closer as they pushed their way through a group of tourists. Just as he thought it might be easier to settle things with a few well-placed blows Zenyatta was pulling him down an alleyway, the man still wrestling with the throng of people behind them. They rounded a corner to see the alley split in two directions, a high wall in front of them. Genji was briefly reminded of a similar choice he had and a wall that he had climbed seemingly a lifetime ago back in Bhutan. “Get on my back”, he told Zenyatta in an urgent whisper. The monk seemed to understand because in the next moment he had climbed on and Genji managed to quickly scramble up the wall and land only slightly off-kilter on the other side. They stood there for a moment, completely silent, trying to hear if they would have to run again. Several tense moments passed and they heard those same heavy footfalls come close to the wall and stop. They silently edged away from where they were crouched, fully expecting their pursuer to nimbly make the jump. 

 

Instead, they heard the man’s voice, low and orotund “I lost them”, he said. There was a short pause “I know. I’m going to need some back-up to locate them. Just two other agents so we can fan out and check the entire surrounding area.” They didn’t wait to hear the response. They began to run in the opposite direction, only stopping when they had jogged for over 20 minutes and Genji’s chest burned with the exertion of that mad sprint and his stomach twisted with anxiousness. He stooped down to catch his breath, Zenyatta was silent next to him, his hand on his back. “It’s alright, we’ve managed to lose him”, he said, his voice far too calm for what they had just gone through. 

 

“This is crazy”, he said, as he was finally able to catch his breath “I should have never taken that ship.” 

 

“Perhaps not, but if you hadn’t it’s quite possible that we would have been spent last night in a detention cell rather than our evening on the beach. We can’t concern ourselves with the past now. We have made our choices and for good or ill we will deal with the consequences as they arise.”

 

Genji shook his head “I still don’t see how you can be so calm about this. You’re not even a little concerned about being arrested?”

 

“I have been concerned about far more than just my detainment in the past”, he said, his voice soft yet resolute. “As I said we can’t concern ourselves with what’s been done we can only move forward.”

 

Genji merely nodded as he quickly took stock of their surroundings. A large and unremarkable apartment complex loomed in front of them, nearly identical to the one he had seen in the video. Zenyatta seemed to notice the similarity as well “Do you think this is the right place?”, he asked. “I don’t know, it does look similar. But I guess we won’t know until we look around”, he answered as they climbed the weather worn looking stairs to the second level of the building. They followed the descending numbers on the doors until they finally came to the apartment marked 36. He took a deep breath, trying to steel himself for the possibility that he might be seeing Hanzo within the next few minutes. That sudden spike of anxiousness already had him breathing hard as he felt cool fingers slip along his back, down his spine, in an attempt to soothe him. It helped for the moment, he can only hope that if Hanzo is here that he won’t have to stare down the incensed eyes of his dragons. They stand in front of the door for far longer than he would like, Zenyatta doesn’t urge him on he waits patiently next to him, a steady presence by his side. Genji finally raps on the door, he manages only one knock before it gently swings open, allowing a quick view inside. If this is where Hanzo had been staying there was no sign of him now. 

 

The rooms were completely bare as if to suggest that there had never been a human presence in that overly compact space. The only evidence that anyone had been there recently lied in the shoe prints left in the carpet and the soaking remains of some broken china in the sink. Genji sighed, although he was happy that there would be no violent confrontation like he had anticipated he was still frustrated they hadn’t found him. That frustration only grew as they traversed the barren rooms of that apartment, searching for anything that might suggest he had even been there in the first place. After several wasted minutes of exploring the kitchen and the coat closet, Genji looked in the bedroom. As he suspected the room was stripped clean, there weren’t even any comforters on the bed just a bare mattress. But something did happen to catch his eye, there wedged in the carpet was a small piece of fletching. Blue, the same shade of Hanzo’s dragons, almost identical to the hue that wrapped around his shoulder. So he had been here, but he had since left, Zenyatta came up behind him to examine his findings.

 

“So, he was here recently”, he said. 

 

“Yes, but who knows how long he’s been gone. The last known report had him here and before that, he was on Miyako.” 

 

“Then it would stand to reason that he would be on the island north of here.” 

 

“He could be, or he could be somewhere else entirely.” 

 

“He has shown a pattern in his movements thus far, it would be wise to follow it.” 

 

“Right.” 

 

“Is something troubling you?”, Zenyatta asked as Genji placed the fletching back onto the carpet. 

 

“There is, I’m nervous about seeing Hanzo again. About what he might do, about what I might do”, he confessed, suddenly anxious again. “I don’t want a repeat of what happened in Hanamura.” 

 

“You have nothing to fear Genji.”

 

“How can you be so sure?”

 

“Because I know you, and I know the struggles you have faced. I am certain when you confront him again you will make the right choice.”

 

Genji didn’t have an answer to give, not one that would truly convey what he felt in the wake of those words spoken with such unwavering conviction that his eyes threatened to water. He merely removed his faceplate, brought his hands up to cradle the sides of Zenyatta’s face and kissed him. As much as he would have been content to simply stay there he knew they were still being pursued and it was only a matter of time before they were found if they didn’t keep moving. With that thought in mind, they made their way out of the apartment and back onto the street, and he wasted no time in finding a clothing store several blocks over for some much-needed camouflage. After a few short minutes of deliberation, he outfitted them both with hoodies, pants, a pair of stylish running shoes for him, and a vividly green baseball cap for Zenyatta who merely chuckled at his choice in color. “What you don’t like green?”, he joked. “No, it would seem I like green a great deal”, he answered as he tapped him on the arm. He paid for their purchases and they ventured back onto the sidewalk wearing their new attire, Zenyatta’s robes stuffed in his bag. Even with their change in clothes, Genji was still wracked with an overwhelming sense of paranoia, that was only temporarily abated after he bought tickets for the ferry and they were safely sailing off to Amami. 

 

The island had undergone an interesting transformation before the war. From what Genji remembered, from stories supplied by his mother, much of the island’s forests housed omniums that supplied the omnics that were shipped off to the mainland. Although now those same buildings laid in disrepair, the woodland quickly reclaiming those desolate and run-down structures, enrobing them in unruly vines and wildflowers. He allowed himself a few moments to take in their surroundings before he was checking his phone to see where the nearest city was, his thoughts once again turned to Hanzo and his whereabouts. He hadn’t allowed himself much time to think on Hanzo since they had started this trek, too preoccupied with the memories of their last encounter and evading arrest. 

 

But as they made their way through a dense mangrove forest, pushing back overgrown ferns and walking through bright streams of sunlight breaking through the canopy he let himself be saturated with those memories of his brother. Zenyatta’s belief in him seemed to be the only thing keeping him from sinking into the abyssal depths of his spirit. That dark recess of his mind where his rancor had festered for too long and he had laid out plan after plan, more ruthless than the last, on how he would go about killing Hanzo. He wished he could tell Zenyatta with the same emboldened conviction that he would be able to see Hanzo again without that same overwhelming urge to draw his sword. But he couldn’t say anything without a pain of doubt, an almost suffocating fear. He hoped that when they finally did meet again he wouldn’t let the monk’s faith in him go unfounded. 

 

They hadn’t walked far before they came upon an old omnium, abandoned and derelict situated down in a gulley overgrown with kudzu. Genji’s mind snapped back to the present, this had been one of the omniums he had seen in those grainy photos back at the watchpoint, another den for the clan to hide their less than reputable business practices. Zenyatta noticed him staring and after a moment of them standing there he said, “You want to venture inside.”

 

“We shouldn’t”, he answered a half-hearted protest.

 

“I see no reason why not. It’s not as if this omnium is still in commission”, he said, gesturing at the building as it lay in disrepair.

 

Genji felt a brief stab of guilt. This just seemed to be another excuse to delay his search, but to ignore this meant having to endure the blistering heat of his agitation, his unfettered curiosity. If the clan was about to do something he needed to know what it was. He nodded as they took the lushly foliaged slope down into the gulley where the omnium sat completely gutted, the door hanging off its hinges. They walked inside to see that the interior was just as bad off, the roof was damaged beyond repair allowing in unbroken shafts of sunlight. More kudzu grew over the expansive windows obscuring some of them completely in vibrant greenery, the ground was much the same carpeted with a thick layer of moss. Genji would find beauty in it if he weren’t so concerned with what they might find here, lying dormant in the ruined remains of this old building waiting for the perfect moment to re-engage. He pulled his sword, not sure whether to expect a threat from omnics or people as Zenyatta hovered close by, guarding his back should something happen. But nothing interrupted their search as they continued to pass through the empty hallways and ransacked rooms, finding nothing but plant life and shrubbery. At the end of one of the halls, they strode into a room with a mass of folders strewn about the floor. 

 

Zenyatta was first to pick one up and look through it, his fingers deftly turning the stained and dog-eared pages that lay inside. After a moment of reading, he wordlessly handed the file to Genji, shaking his head. Genji quickly scanned the page, it read like a hastily written log. In just barely legible script it detailed protocols for reviving and reconditioning Vishkar omnics. It laid out in excruciating detail all the necessary procedures on how to accomplish that awful goal; the process of jolting the system back to life, how to gut the AI essentially wiping the mind clean. Even how to keep them in line should their original programming still somehow be present. 

 

There were even pictures of their experiments and Genji had to look away, suddenly ill with the revelation of their grotesque work. Omnics laid out on operating tables, limbs detached, multitudes of wires connecting in and out of their limp forms, drawn and quartered, whoever they used to be totally removed. He wondered how Zenyatta could even bear to look at it, it was making him sick to his stomach. His fingers leafed through the file, trying to keep his eyes averted until he finally comes to a page with nothing but text. He looks it over to see the name Talon mentioned several times, but he can’t make out the rest. But considering this information, Symmetra’s news back at the monastery, the clan’s reformation, and the castle heavily staffed with overly polished omnic guards he can only assume that Talon and the clan have forged some kind of bond. He lets the folder drop to the floor as he’s overcome with an unsettlingly deep surge of anger, one that nearly has his dragon unfurl from the ink that stretched along the expanse of his back. He lets it pass, instead bringing Zenyatta into his arms, clinging to him, still reeling in the face of that horrid news. 

 

“I didn’t think it was possible to revive an omnic once they were...decommissioned”, he said, his voice thick with wariness and barely repressed fury.

 

“I did not either. Death is a finality here, but even if the body is destroyed there is hope for the soul to move on, a new path to travel”, Zenyatta said quietly. “To be ripped from the embrace of the Iris, to be forced back, only to be wiped clean and used as a tool”, he trailed off, his hold on Genji tightening. “It is exactly what we never wanted, what we fought so hard against”, he said finally.

 

Genji nodded, he supposed perhaps for those Talon engineers it was an easy task, what was an omnic but a tool to serve their purposes. But he knew all too well the feeling of a life stolen away. He understood what it felt like to be a prisoner in your own body, to have your freedom ripped away and given to someone else to control. But he couldn’t imagine his mind stolen too, his memories wiped clean, a blank slate, a formless piece of clay for someone to mold to their whims. At one time he may have found himself wishing for his memories to be erased, anything seemed preferable than having to live the rest of his life with the knowledge of how he came to be what he was. But now it made him shudder to imagine it. For good or ill his memories were his own, and just like the steel plating that ran down his sides, the vents on his shoulders, and the alloy that lined his bones, they were a part of him. “We have to put an end to this”, he said, resolute, his ire once again raised as he thought about the man who had resurrected the clan, about Talon and the havoc they had already wrought. 

 

“We are in agreement then”, Zenyatta answered firmly. “But I wonder where we should begin. It seems as if this is far more widespread than just a few omniums in Japan.” 

 

“I’m sure it is. But if we could break the clan back down we might have a shot at ruining whatever plan they have with Talon”, he said, picking the folder back up and looking through the pages for anything they could work off, reading through long lines of hastily written text and nearly indecipherable jargon. Then suddenly his mouth ran dry and his remaining skin turned pale. 

 

“Genji, what is it?” 

 

Genji could barely bring himself to speak. Instead, he handed him the folder and let Zenyatta read it for himself, already having memorized the information. Barely legible, scribbled there in black ink was the ordering of a hit to be taken out on the leader of the Shamabli, scheduled 2 days from now at his speech at King’s Row.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter took so long to get out, I'm hoping the next chapter will come a little quicker. Also, thank you to all the people who left comments and kudos they are always appreciated! So a lot of stuff happened this chapter, a lot of moving around, and some set-up for what's to come in the next few chapters since we're quickly approaching the end. Also, if you're thinking Genji and Zenyatta got out of some of those situations far too easily, don't worry because those things are coming back around. As always, thanks for reading.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji and Zenyatta travel to King's Row to stop the hit on Mondatta.

“I should have expected something like this from them”, Genji seethed as Zenyatta calmly placed the folder back on the floor. He turned to face him, baffled that his partner’s serene disposition was not shaken by that awful news. Or maybe it was simply a trait he had adopted during the time spent wandering the mountains, an unshakeable sense of calm even in the face of such obstacles. Either way, he found that he had enough panic and unbridled rage for the both of them as he balled his hands into tight fists, a poor method for staving off his anger.

 

“Zenyatta, what do you want to do?”, he asked as calmly as he could. “If we leave today we can make it to King’s Row before his speech begins. We have just enough time, we can stop the hit.” 

 

“What about your search?”, Zenyatta asked, his tone wavering and uncertain.

 

It briefly shocked Genji to hear the usual strength in his voice falter. He shook his head as he gently grasped his hand bringing it to his lips, kissing his knuckles, and the tops of his fingers. “Wherever Hanzo is I’ll find him, but this is more pressing”, he said firmly. 

 

Zenyatta gave no sigh of relief as he thought he would. He merely brought his other hand to caress Genji’s face “Thank you for this Genji. I will not forget your selflessness.” 

 

He shook his head, he wanted to say that this was the least he could do for him. That he wanted him to have the chance to protect his brother, look after him like he had failed to do, but he remained silent as he kissed him again before they trudged outside. Though they had only been in that abandoned space for little less than an hour the light of the sun seemed dim and he could only equate it to the gloom that news had brought over them. He had badly wanted to succumb to rage as he would have done in the past. He had wanted to throw things around the room, punch holes through the walls, let the dragon break free from its pinfold of ink and ravage the land or soar off to destroy the people who had orchestrated this. But he knew from past experiences that none of those things would help their cause and resolved himself to not cause Zenyatta unnecessary stress. So instead he replaced his faceplate and ground his teeth as they began their trek into the city.

 

After a walk that had quickly devolved into a sprint, they made it to the overly crowded airport and onto an equally cramped plane with no further mishaps. That should have put him at ease but despite everything, Genji was inexplicably on edge the entire flight. “Sooner or later they’re going to show up”, he told himself, with so much fervor and overwhelming certainty that he felt he would somehow summon their presence, and he and Zenyatta would be forced to take down several UN agents aboard the plane. But nothing happened. They made it into King’s Row the next day with no issues. Zenyatta had been relatively silent throughout the duration of the trip and it was only as they disembarked and were walking through the airport when he finally spoke again. 

 

“My apologies Genji.” 

 

“What are you apologizing for?” 

 

“I’m sure you’re wondering as to why I’ve been so quiet.”

 

“It crossed my mind.” 

 

“I had thought so, I’ve just been trying to gather my thoughts. This situation reminds me far too much of how things used to be and I’m afraid it brought back some rather unpleasant memories.” 

 

“Of course it would”, Genji said firmly. He thought back to Zenyatta’s stories of his time traversing the mountains alongside his brothers. Their path had been a difficult one; the fear of retaliation from the people they had worked for, the constant threat of attacks from frightened travelers, and the small but persistent seeds of doubt that had been planted in some of the monk’s minds as the road had endlessly stretched over treacherous terrain. He knew all too well the feelings Zenyatta was bound to be working through, he still dealt with them on a daily basis. “You don’t have to apologize for anything”, he said, placing his hands on his shoulders still marveling at the strength of his design. 

 

“Perhaps not”, Zenyatta answered, “But I have to admit it’s still unsettling.”

 

“I know”, he replied, kissing the top of his head before they made their way through the crowd.

 

Genji had always prided himself on knowing when someone was watching him. He had gotten used to it as the reckless playboy and then once again as the broken man encased in the cyborg body. That’s why he was easily able to feel the gaze that had fixed on them as they pushed past several groups of people, but he wasn’t sure which direction it was coming from. He scanned the crowd as they cut hurried courses around them; a couple with their children, a businessman speaking on his phone, a woman with ringless fingers picking up her luggage. And then a man in the middle of it all, standing completely still as he observed them. He was there for a moment, several people walking around him ignoring him entirely, then a woman passed in front of him and he was gone. 

 

He looked around frantically for a moment before realizing they needed to leave. “We need to go now”, he whispered to Zenyatta who gave him a quick nod and they made their way out into the street. There was no sign of him outside, just a mass of people, their faces all blurred together out of the speed in which they came in and out of his line of sight. Zenyatta took him by the hand and he almost jolted when he felt those cool fingers intertwine with his own as he led him out of that throng of people. According to Suman's letter, Mondatta’s speech was to take place at 8 pm at the Meridian. They didn’t have a great deal of time and he refused to get distracted. If they were confronted again they would simply have to deal with it. The pair walked up a cobblestone street and past an endless array of shops and several inviting looking pubs. Genji was still on edge but he realized his unease couldn’t begin to compare to what Zenyatta had to be feeling. Even though he couldn’t fathom the depths of the monk’s concerns he found it nigh impossible to quiet his fears, quell the nervous ache of his stomach, or still his tremoring fingers. Zenyatta squeezed his hand once “You do not need to quiet your worries simply for my sake”, he said abruptly, his tone surprisingly warm. 

 

“How did you know?” 

 

“It’s not hard when I know you so well. Besides you have shown a great deal of concern for my well-being, even at the expense of your own.”

 

“I could say the same about you”, Genji said, nudging him gently.

 

“That is true but I fear that we cannot go to such extremes, even for each other. There must be a balance.” 

 

“I know I just didn’t want to worry you any further.”

 

“You have done no such thing. Though I am concerned about Mondatta I am certain that we will be able to keep him from harm”, he said, as they continued on their way. 

 

The hour of his speech was rapidly approaching and although Genji had been pursued by that same feeling of anxiousness he had yet to see anything suspicious. For a moment his worries were abated as they walked down a narrow alleyway, but then suddenly he felt something. It was small, barely noticeable, but he felt something tap against his shoulder. He looked around, suddenly on edge again, there was nothing to the left or right of them so he looked up. Zenyatta was just barely able to push him out of the way as a flashbang fell to the ground from an open window, and the alley erupted into a blinding flash of light and a mad concert of noise that made his ears rings and his circuitry rattle. 

 

He called for Zenyatta, feeling for him in the sudden darkness only for a human hand to catch his arm in a vice-like grip. He pulled away but there were several more there in the next instant grabbing at his arms, at his torso, his scarf. He couldn’t see well enough but considering the rapid-fire orders being barked in his ears, they were the UN agents trying to finally take them in. The figures trying to apprehend him slowly came into focus, though they were still blurry and wavering like he was seeing them through rippling water. He saw Zenyatta a few feet away as he managed to slide his way out of an agent’s hold. He smiled to himself before elbowing the man behind him and managing to throw off another that had him by the arm. Despite his sight slowly returning he couldn’t be sure how many agents were in the alleyway with them, the moment he had managed to pry another off several more came rushing forwards. An agent at his back attempted a clumsy hold which he managed to quickly wriggle out of just as another came forward to deliver a blow as Genji fell to the ground and out of his reach. He backed himself against the wall just as the blurry shapes of the agents suddenly retreated out of the alley and the windows above them opened only for several more flashbangs to rain down on their heads. This time Zenyatta wasn’t quick enough to get either of them out of the way and he could already feel his limbs seizing up as he once again tried to call for him. He didn’t get a chance to hear the reply, though, as he felt a heavy blow at the back of his head and a different kind of darkness overtook him then.

 

The first thing he woke to was the dull ache in his neck and a soreness in his limbs that made him desperately wish for the soothing warmth of Zenyatta’s orbs. He opened his eyes to see Zenyatta sitting next to him, the two of them confined to a cell that resembled more of a glass case than a space meant for detainment. Genji sat up slowly, Zenyatta came over to try to get him to lie back down but he gently waved him off only to notice that his orbs were missing. He felt a wave of panic suddenly overtake him as he reached for his sword only to realize that it too was missing, even the shuriken in his arm were gone, he frowned feeling more than a little indignant about that. “Master, are you alright?”, he asked.

 

“I am. Forgive me, I would have healed you by now had I been able to.”

 

“I know you would have”, Genji said fondly “Where are your orbs?” 

 

“Taken into custody along with your sword.”

 

Genji cursed under his breath. “Where are we?”, he asked with a frown. 

 

“In one of those detainment cells you described. I can see now why you were so adamant about not coming here. They are even less accommodating than those hotels you disliked.” 

 

“I have no idea how you can joke about this.” 

 

“There are worse places to be. At least we’re here together.” 

 

“I’d rather be anywhere else with you.”

 

“Really? I seem to remember several places where my presence did little to assuage your distaste.”

 

“Fine, almost anywhere. What happened after they knocked me out?” 

 

“There was a short-lived confrontation, but considering where we are you can imagine how it went.”

 

“You would have won if I hadn’t gotten knocked out.” 

 

“Perhaps, but that hardly matters now. We need to find a way out of here.”

 

“Right”, Genji said, sincerely hoping it was wasn’t too late. “Have they talked to you already?” 

 

“No, not yet.” 

 

“Well let’s see if we can get them in here then”, he said as he looked through the glass to see an agent walking by. “Hey”, he called “Go get your superior.” 

 

The agent squinted at him but didn’t say anything he left the room and within the next minute, a tall man with dark hair was striding through the door his hands clasped behind his back. “You’re ready to cooperate then?”, he asked, slowly turning to face them.

 

“We would have cooperated back in the alley if your agents hadn’t tried to jump us”, Genji groused. 

 

The man gave him a strange look “They weren’t supposed t-”, he trailed off before excusing himself with a frown and walking into the next room. For a moment Genji could just barely make out hushed voices speaking rapidly in obvious agitation. The agent returned to the room a moment later shaking his head “I apologize”, he said sounding mildly exasperated. “They were not ordered to do that, but even so that still doesn’t excuse what you’ve done.” 

 

“We do realize that stealing the transport was not the best course of action but there are more pressing matters at hand”, Zenyatta answered. 

 

“What would those pressing matters be?”, the agent asked, his tone slipping too close to condescension for Genji’s liking.

 

“We’re here because we’re trying to stop a hit on Tekharta Mondatta’s life”, Genji said angrily.

 

“What?”

 

“You heard what I said. Talon has taken a hit out on Mondatta, they’re going to strike tonight during his speech”, Genji answered, the very last of his patience ebbing away.

 

“How can you be sure this information is legitimate?”

 

“We found a file at an abandoned omnium on Amami island. We were there investigating claims of it serving as a site for the newly reformed Shimada clan. They had papers there detailing their work done with Talon.” 

 

The agent's eyes flicked between them and then to the floor. From what Genji could surmise he seemed to be trying to puzzle out his words, weighing his options, trying to find any chinks in his story. “On Amami you said?”, he asked after a moment of tense silence. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“How do I know you’re not lying?” 

 

“What would be the point of lying about this?”, Genji asked, baffled and more than a little offended. 

 

“Please”, Zenyatta said suddenly “We simply want to ensure my brother’s safety.” 

 

The agent gave Zenyatta an almost sympathetic look before producing a slim black phone from his pants pocket. “I’ll make some calls for them to up security”, he said, his fingers furiously typing in the numbers. 

 

“And that’s it?”, Genji asked. 

 

“What else would you have me do?” 

 

“Let us go there and make sure they do their job.” 

 

“You can’t be serious. I can’t just let you leave.” 

 

“Forgive us if we don’t think your men will follow through. Besides I used to be part of Overwatch, I could be of great use out there.”

 

“You really think you can stop whoever is going to take out this hit?”

 

“I know that I can”, Genji answered, resolute. 

 

“Let’s hope that confidence doesn’t go unfounded”, the agent replied as he let them out of their cell with a shake of his head. “Alright, you’re to do whatever you can to keep Mondatta safe, but as soon as he is my men will make sure to escort you back here.” 

 

“Thank you, that is more than we could have asked for given the circumstances”, Zenyatta replied with a slight bow of his head. 

 

Genji bit back his objections as he collected his sword and Zenyatta’s orbs zoomed around him and came to rest once again on his shoulders. He hoped that he would be able to find some way to get them out of this mess with the UN but at the moment he was more concerned with what lied ahead of them. As they began their trek to the Meridian with two agents closely at their heels he turned over the task in his mind, thinking back to how Talon usually took care of such matters. How they had found bodies pierced by only one shot to the skull and the stories of a sniper by the name of Widowmaker. He had never fought her, but the claims of her precision kills and the rumors of her unerring aim had him nervous. Night was already upon them and it did nothing to quell his anxiety over what he might be forced to face. He looked over to Zenyatta who was walking silently next to him, he didn’t want to get too tender with him here not with the guards at their backs watching their every move and scrutinizing their words but he couldn’t stop himself from putting a hand on his shoulder “Master, are you alright?”, he asked. 

 

“Yes, though I am concerned for Mondatta’s safety.” Genji nodded he wanted to reassure him that everything would go smoothly, that he would be able to walk away from this speech unscathed. But he felt like there were no words that could easily dispel the sense of dread they had been laboring under ever since they left the omnium. Instead, he grasped Zenyatta’s hand and they continued forward, the sound of an excited crowd drawing closer and the Meridian finally coming into view. The street was already full of people, humans and omnics alike stood huddled together in the chilly night air watching the time in anticipation of Mondatta’s speech. Genji was surprised to see so many humans amongst the crowd he knew the relations between humans and omnics was strained, he had even been harassed here on several occasions some of which nearly ended with an exchange of blows. He and Zenyatta stood towards the back of the crowd if something happened he would need to be able to get away quickly without the added difficulty of having to push through an incensed throng of people. He looked around trying to reacquaint himself with their surroundings “Lots of high ground”, he thought in annoyance, easy access for any snipers lying in wait. 

 

The two of them broke away to the roofs after a few heated words with the agents, they needed a better vantage point and he refused to allow them to interfere with his task. Zenyatta only lightly admonished him as they began a quick ascent up several flights of stairs to the top of a tall building that overlooked the Meridian. Within several minutes they were once again in the night air the softly lit streets and the mass of people patiently awaiting Mondatta’s arrival far below them. Genji had just barely begun to scan the other rooftops before he was seized with the eerie notion that they were being watched. He looked around but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, what did catch his attention though was a faint click-clack, like women’s heels marching along the concrete. “Did you hear that?”, he whispered to Zenyatta as he slowly drew his sword. “I did indeed”, he answered, looking around as the noise drew closer. Genji gripped the hilt of his sword tighter he couldn’t be sure where the sound was coming from all he knew that it seemed to be getting closer. Then, abruptly, it stopped. His entire body was tense, the grip on his sword almost painfully tight as he readied himself for an attack, the thoughts of the Widowmaker whirling wildly in his head. Once again he surveyed the area but didn’t see anything. He saw open windows of hotel rooms, the stars as they glittered high above them, and then suddenly the shape of a woman just slightly darker than the night sky was standing on the roof directly to the side of them. 

 

Genji pushed Zenyatta out of the way right as the bullet sped past them. Zenyatta had just barely regained his footing as he charged forward in a fit of anger, jumping the distance to the other roof as the sniper made her escape, the familiar click-clack of her heels beating against the rooftop. “Widowmaker, it has to be”, he thinks, his fear burned away and replaced by a fierce determination. He threw his shuriken which she managed to evade, ducking as she ran in a zigzagging pattern as she attempted to grapple off the roof to a higher vantage point. He sped up, managing to catch her by the heel of her boot right as she was pulled off the ground. “What?”, she exclaimed in irritation, trying to shake him off as they were both pulled up to a narrow ledge. As soon as he had his feet on concrete he tried to pin her to the wall with a strike to the shoulder. She was just able to spin out of the way, blocking the strike of his blade with her rifle, he only managed to graze her side. She hissed in pained as she tried to corral him off the edge, he was too fast, he kicked her in the stomach which sent her flying back but not before she had caught him by the tail end of his scarf. For a terrifying moment, Genji was tipping forward along with her, before, with a monumental effort, he managed to pull himself back. Widowmaker still hadn’t let go of him, she had lost her grip on his scarf but in the confusion had caught him by the arm and had managed to leverage herself closer. Just close enough to attach a venom mine to his chest which instantly engulfed him in an aubergine haze that burned his lungs and stung his eyes. 

 

He collapsed to the ground a moment later in a fit of wild coughing. He was just able to make her out through the tears that had sprung to his eyes as she lined up her rifle to take the shot, and he heard a faint but amused “Adieu sweet ninja.” The last word had barely passed her lips before he heard a strange sound and saw a blue burst of energy knock her to the side, her bullet missing its mark but grazing his side. He shakily got to his feet his throat was burning too now he realized as he frantically looked around for the source of that energy only to see Zenyatta standing on the roof opposite them, readying himself for another strike. Before she could react, his orbs glowed a brilliant shade of cerulean as they spun around him in a rapid arc, and within the next second, he had hit her with a burst of energy that sent her flying off the ledge. Genji heard her alarmed curse as she began a quick descent to the ground below but not before she had dragged out her grappling hook and was being pulled off to another roof. He shucked several shuriken in a desperate attempt to cut her line, but only two hit, one in her arm and the other just grazing her leg. He thought he could almost make out her angered grumbling as she landed atop the nearby roof and fled, the sound of her heels against the concrete growing fainter with each passing second. He tried to follow after her but his chest burned like a fire had been stoked in his ribcage and his coughing was only growing worse. Just as he was about to try to attempt to leap after her he saw a streak of blue cut through the darkness and the lithe form of a woman followed in her wake. “Tracer?”, he thought dazedly as he turned and clumsily made the leap back to where Zenyatta was waiting for him and stumbled into his arms. “We need to go after her”, he rasped as one of Zenyatta’s orbs came to rest on his chest.

 

“You’re injured”, Zenyatta said, trying to steady him as his coughs slowly began to subside. 

 

“She’s going to do worse to Mondatta if we don’t stop her”, Genji said in a hoarse but urgent whisper. 

 

“I am aware of that, but it is doubtful that we’ll reach her at the speed she’s going and with you in your current condition. But we are not far from where he’s supposed to give his speech, at the very least we could warn his security detail and have them escort him to safety.” 

 

Genji nodded as the burn in his chest was slowly soothed away and they raced down the stairs. His anxiety returning as he tried to keep his eyes trained on the battle that was taking place overhead and the two dark shapes that cut through the sky; the cyan streak of Tracer’s accelerator and the almost acrobatic movements of Widowmaker. They make it back down to the street just as Mondatta is taking the stage, clad in dove gray robes his hands clasped behind his back as he began to address the applauding crowd. They pushed their way through them, his eyes alighting on a man with blond hair wearing dark glasses and a well-tailored suit. He was just about to get his attention when the man pushed the com-link in his ear and in the next instant he was behind Mondatta whispering to him and then ushering him off the stage and towards a waiting limo parked nearby. Genji almost sighed in relief had it not been for the fight that he was still observing overhead and then with the noise he had been dreading to hear all night. The sound of the gunshot reverberated in his head and he looked over just as Mondatta fell, his body arching almost gracefully as he dropped out of sight. He felt Zenyatta pull on his arm and then the both of them were pushing their way through the stunned crowd. 

 

He felt the ragged cry that was building in his chest cut short as he examined the limp body of Tekharta Mondatta lying spread-eagled on the car floor. Zenyatta hadn’t moved next to him his hand gripping his arm cold and still as his head tilted to observe his brother and the gunshot wound piercing his chest, and the small trail of oil trickling down the pristine metal of his torso staining the immaculate cloth of his robes. Even at the funerals of his mother and father he had never felt such an abject grief like the one he experienced now as the crowd pushed against their backs for a better look at the body of their fallen leader the security guards pushing them back with shouts and angered protests. The noise of it all suddenly dropped away until he heard a very quiet sigh next to him. Then a moment later he heard that same voice colored with a quiet grief whisper “Be at peace brother. May the Iris embrace you.”

\---

The next hour was spent in a flurry of panic and frantic movement as he and Zenyatta took on the task of getting Mondatta’s body back to where the UN had been holding them. The agents who had accompanied them there were stone-faced as they helped them by waving off the saddened drove as they ducked inside the limo and pulled away and onto the road. They had laid out his body over the seats a white sheet covering his limp form and the shattered remains of his chassis. Genji could barely stand to look at him, keeping his eyes trained on the floor as the limo made its way over a street that seemed to have more potholes than pavement and past a mass of people dining in the open air by candlelight. He wondered how long it would take for the news to reach them, for the news to reach the world of his death, and what would come of it. He looked over to his partner since his quiet farewell to his brother Zenyatta had been completely silent. He didn’t try to coax him to speak, he had extensive knowledge of grief having spent so long laboring under it himself, and having observed the different ways his family had dealt with it. The denial, the suppression, and all the wonderfully insidious ways it could tear you apart. He knew for himself that he had never handled loss well deciding instead to deny his feelings and bury them away somewhere for as long as he possibly could. He had no idea how Zenyatta would handle this but he resolved himself to be there for him in whatever way he could. And at the moment that simply meant sitting next to him in the police station as the agents gave him their report and announced that they would be launching a full-scale investigation. Genji could barely process it, all he could think about was his partner next to him who listened astutely to their words. He would nod every so often, but Genji could tell his attention was still on the table where his brother’s body laid obscured by that sheet. He found his gaze lingering there too, his eyes suddenly arrested by a spot of oil as it bled through the cloth. 

 

Genji looked away only to see Tracer as she hobbled through the door, her mouth set into a frown instead of her usual cheerful grin. She looked at him with wide eyes “Genji? Is that you?”, she asked, dismayed. He couldn’t bring himself to answer he merely gave her a weak wave of his hand as she walked over to greet him. 

 

“It’s been too long”, she said with he could only imagine was a forced smile given the circumstances of their meeting. 

 

“Yes, it has”, he agreed. “It’s good to see you again. I’m glad someone was here to take on Widowmaker.” 

 

Her smile faltered “Felt more like she took _me_ on, to be honest love. If I had just been a little faster maybe-”

 

“Please”, Zenyatta interrupted, with a nod of his head “You have my thanks for what you did to save my brother.”

 

She looked taken aback at the sincerity of his words and the slight bow Zenyatta gave her. “That means a lot coming from you. I just wish I could’ve done more.” 

 

“Even so, you fought valiantly. Please accept my gratitude”, Zenyatta insisted. 

 

“Yes thank you for what you did. I wasn’t able to go after her when she hit me with that venom mine I’m glad you were there to handle things”, Genji said in earnest.

 

“Thanks you two it means a lot, even if-”, she trails off as she looks to the table. “Mondatta was an inspiration to me you know. I was so excited to see him here, the leader of the Shambali at my old stomping grounds. I was hoping I could get his autograph or something after his speech.” Her gaze shifted suddenly to Zenyatta “I’m so sorry”, she said after a terse moment of silence. “You two look a tad worn out I’ll let you get some sleep”, she said, abruptly excusing herself.

 

Which left the two of them there, their eyes still fixed on the table. He sighs, the anxiousness he felt before replaced by an unnerving sense of dread and a burning pain of regret that he hadn’t been more useful. That he hadn’t been able to stop the hit, that he had been nothing more than a spectator to the tragedy. He’s sure Tracer had to be feeling something similar, it was a common practice after failed missions for everyone to mope around the base, or confine themselves to their rooms to nurse their wounded pride in peace. She had always seemed to be the first to bounce back from a failure, continually trying to rouse the others from their doldrums. Of course, those were merely observations, he had never really known her. They had spoken a few times out of necessity and even fewer during recreation, but she had always seemed to be a beacon of positivity amongst them. At one time it had annoyed him, now though he wished she was grinning ear to ear instead of the forced smile she gave them before she had quickly left, the corner of her eyes moist with what he knew to be unshed tears. He felt compelled to run after her, but he felt a tug on his arm and looked to see Zenyatta shaking his head. He wasn’t sure if he was telling him to let her have her space, or if he simply wanted to keep him there, either way, he didn’t ask.

 

The nameless agent they had met before trudged into the room a few moments later. His head hung low as he dragged his hand down his face before addressing them, his tone broken and fatigued. “I am so sorry”, he said, his gaze turning to Zenyatta. “I know words can’t make up for what's happened, but I just wanted you to know that. I’ve also taken the liberty of dropping the charges that's the least I can do”, he said.

 

“Thank you, that is more than we could have hoped for”, Zenyatta replied with a nod of his head. The agent put a hand on his shoulder before leaving them there to contemplate what had to happen next. They would have to take him back to the monastery and from there would come the daunting task of breaking the news to the others. He didn’t allow himself to succumb to that sense of dread yet, his mind was still preoccupied with the moment he heard the gunshot and how he had stood motionless next to Zenyatta as they both watched him fall. 

 

“Do not blame yourself for what happened Genji”, Zenyatta said softly, his hand suddenly grasping his wrist in a firm but gentle hold. 

 

“Alright, you need to tell me if you’ve been reading my mind or not “, Genji answered, completely baffled.

 

“Sadly I do not have that ability. Though I’m sure if I did I would find many appealing yet inappropriate ideas.” 

 

“Not entirely”, Genji answered, refraining from laughter as he crowded closer to him. “I’m sorry”, he said, his voice slightly broken. “I was right there, I should have been able t-” 

 

“I am sure your friend feels similarly, but you and she are not to blame for his death.”

 

“There is someone to blame, though”, Genji thought savagely, his mind whirling dangerously with the prospect of revenge. It was a familiar feeling, like the burn he had felt in his chest as he hunted down the clan, or during the many instances where he had mentally orchestrated Hanzo’s death. He felt his blood boil and his teeth chatter with the rush of it, the sense of purpose. But just as he felt compelled to tell Zenyatta his plans, to offer up the chance to hunt her down, he knew he would never agree to it and even if they were able to find her it would never bring Mondatta back. His purpose now was to do everything he could to support Zenyatta and as he felt the sickening ache of his anger slowly burn away he hoped he would be up to the challenge.

 

Zenyatta gave a long sigh “I think it’s best we find a place to stay for the night”, he said standing up, the fluidity gone from his movements just as it had been when they first left the monastery. They paid for a room at the first hotel they saw and wearily made their way into bed even though Genji was sure neither of them was going to fall asleep easily. Even as Zenyatta pulled him close under the blankets and his orbs began to chime he could sense he was still awake, most likely ruminating on the events of the evening. He didn’t know what to say, almost paralyzed with fear that he would say something foolish. So instead he fell back to the well-worn knowledge he had of Zenyatta’s body, his hands traveling the already thoroughly explored and sleek angles of his form. Though this time he used that insight not to incite breathless responses but gentle sighs of relief, sighs which he desperately hoped would ease him into a comfortable sleep as he kneaded his back and shoulders with nimble fingers. He knew he had accomplished his goal when after a single but achingly tender caress down his spine Zenyatta’s orbs had gone still and silent. Genji let himself bask in the momentary triumph before he was forced to face the bleak darkness of the room and the unlikely notion of sleep. He resigned himself to a restless night as he held Zenyatta in his arms, the sound of the gunshot still ringing in his ears. 

 

Despite what he had initially thought Genji dozed off sometime around 5 in the morning. He rolled over to see Zenyatta was already gone, a quickly written note was on his pillow explaining that he had gone back to the station to make preparations to take Mondatta back to the monastery. He fell back on the bed mentally exhausted from the other night. He considered trying to go back to sleep, he had spent much of his time after the death of his father in a kind of dreamlike state, sleeping as much as he could, just another method to try to stave off the despair. Those bouts of narcolepsy had been so pervasive that Hanzo had found him one evening slumped over the kitchen counter and had carried him off to bed. He had woken hours later to see his brother still there asleep in a chair nearby. He had never thanked him for that small gesture of kindness, too distraught and too hurt to speak to him. He rolled over onto his stomach, he didn’t know what this meant now, how could he possibly leave Zenyatta with his grief to go off looking for Hanzo? He concluded that he couldn’t, but then felt irrevocably guilty with that decision, he couldn’t just leave Hanzo to whatever meager existence he had eked out for himself. 

 

Isn’t that what you’ve been doing? How hard would it truly be to leave him where he was just for a while longer? Was he even really suffering? Didn’t he deserve to? Those were the questions that still came to mind when he thought of him. He wished his reflections were more noble. That those thoughts didn’t verge on such blatant pettiness. Though he still couldn’t see what would be the outcome when he finally did find him he knew from the burning at the corner of his eyes that he would have to look for him soon. But for now, Zenyatta needed him. With that thought in mind, he set his sword on his back and made his way to the station to meet Zenyatta. He found him there at the front desk his attention focused on some papers before Genji came behind him to kiss the side of his face. “Ah, Genji it is good to see you”, he said fondly “I apologize for leaving so abruptly but I had some business to attend to here”, he said, turning to kiss him back “Did you sleep well?” 

 

“Not particularly” Genji sighed.

 

“I must confess I didn’t either”, he said a little sadly as he set the papers aside. “All the preparations have been made for us and Mondatta to make the trip back to the monastery by air transport.” 

 

“Ah, well that’s good I guess”, Genji answered looking over to his partner, the rigidity of his stance. “How are you doing?”, he asked softly. 

 

“About as well as to be expected I’m afraid”, Zenyatta said with a sigh “How are you feeling?” 

 

“I’ve been better”, Genji confessed, feeling exhausted all over again.

 

Zenyatta nodded knowingly. "So what do you plan to do now?”, he asked. 

 

“What?” 

 

“Will you be accompanying me back to the monastery, or will you go in search of your brother?”

 

Genji shook his head in dismay “Obviously I’m going back with you”, he answered, laying his hands on his shoulders. 

 

Zenyatta didn’t jolt in surprise like he suspected he might but his next words sounded mildly baffled. “I thought you would want-” 

 

“I _want_ to stay with you. I want to make sure you’re alright. What I don’t want is for you to deal with this alone so I’m going with you”, he answered fervently, cupping his face. 

 

“But-”

 

“We’ll look for him together when things have quieted down. But my place is with you.” 

 

Zenyatta brought him into a tight embrace “Thank you”, he said warmly, sounding relieved. A moment later an agent came into the room lightly clearing his throat which prompted them to reluctantly split apart. “We’re all ready to go”, he announced with a hint of a knowing smile as Genji looked to the table. Mondatta’s body was not there, he assumed that he was already on board. Suddenly the nervous energy that had brought him here was replaced with an impenetrable fatigue as the two of them boarded the transport and that deep sense of loss really sunk in as Zenyatta took him by the hand. They stayed like that the entire flight, holding onto each other even as Zenyatta’s fingers grew icy cold as the night drew near. Genji couldn’t be convinced to sleep so instead he sat there motionless, even through the gentle turbulence they experienced going over the beginnings of the mountain range, his thoughts turning to the monastery. He felt his heart sink at the thought of having to tell the monks the somber news. He didn’t expect wails and there would be no tears obviously, but grief was the same everywhere. He could only hope that they might find some way to soften the blow.

 

After 13 hours that felt far longer amidst the oppressive silence of the transport they finally saw the peaks of the mountains coming into view. Genji inhaled deeply, happy to see the familiar sight of the monastery and the monks milling around the courtyard, their forms shining brightly in the midday sun. The transport set down a little ways down the mountainside, as they disembarked Zenyatta turned to address the agents “Please allow me to tell them what's happened then you may bring Mondatta inside.” The small group of operatives gave him a quick nod as Genji followed him outside the clean scent of the mountain air undercut with the heavily spiced aroma of incense. But he couldn’t enjoy it, couldn’t revel in the feeling of familiarity, or the feeling of comfort one could only experience returning home after a long trip. All he could feel was a sense of dread and a hollowness that he hadn’t felt since the loss of his father. “Who should tell them?”, Genji asked hesitantly, as they quickly made their way to the monastery. 

 

“It falls to me I think”, Zenyatta replied “He and I did share the duties of leadership for a time”, he said as the two of them walked up the steps and into the courtyard greeted by the familiar sight of one of the monks attending to the bell with a rag and pail. He turned to face them almost jumping in place “Master Zenyatta, it’s so good to see you again! We weren’t sure if you’d ever come back”, he said, sounding elated. 

 

“It’s good to see you as well Prem. But I have something very important to say and I need to address the entire monastery. Do you think you could alert the others?” 

 

“Ah, sure”, Prem replied, sounding a tad quizzical as he turned and rang the bell several times, loosing short but urgent peals. The other monks filed out of the inner chambers of the building a few moments later, many exclaiming with joyful alarm at their return. Genji didn’t have the heart to reveal the true nature of their reunion. He instead drew close to Zenyatta who adopted a similar stance to Mondatta, that same stance he had taken as he had addressed the crowd one final time, his hands clasped behind his back and his shoulders squared. He sighed once as a tense hush fell over the monks. “I’m afraid I have some grave news for you”, he began.

\--- 

 

Genji knew from past experience that everyone faced loss differently. But he didn’t expect the almost deafening silence that fell over the congregation as Zenyatta recounted the events of the other night, the sound of the goldcrests boisterously singing in their nest the only thing that cut through the calm. The monks seemed to be much like Zenyatta in handling the news of their brother’s death, some bowed their heads while others left to face their loss in private. When Zenyatta was finished speaking and had finally answered the volley of questions about the minutiae of their leader’s death he quietly left the courtyard with Genji on his heels. He retreated down the dimly lit corridors and strode into Genji’s room and sat on the edge of his bed with a heavy sigh, his elbows propped on his knees, fingers steepled and head bowed. Genji sat next to him and laid an arm around his shoulders “Are you alright?”, he asked softly.

 

Zenyatta leaned over into his embrace sighing again “I will be, but for now I’m not certain.” 

 

“That’s understandable”, Genji said, kissing the top of his head. “Stay here tonight”, he said, pulling him closer.

 

“I was already planning to”, he answered fondly. 

 

“Good”, Genji answered, coaxing him further into bed. It was still early, the sky just beginning to turn over from the cerulean blue of day to the pinkish-orange of early evening. But he knew that the next few days would bring their own challenges and Zenyatta already seemed exhausted, though he hid it well. Genji laid down with him, the past few hours finally taking their toll as he eased down onto the mattress, Zenyatta’s hand splayed over his chest. They didn’t speak for long hours after that, even as the early evening stars came into view and the air grew chilly and Genji was finally forced to leave Zenyatta’s embrace to close the window they remained in a state of amicable silence. Even so, he could tell in the way he sighed and in how he clung to him that he was finally feeling the full brunt of Mondatta’s death and Genji would have given everything he had, the remains of his fortune, the last vestige of his body, to relieve the pain he was feeling. But once again he felt powerless in the wake of such sadness. Though he knew about loss, the method here was different and he wasn’t sure if he could alleviate the sting of his passing but he resolved himself to try as he pulled Zenyatta closer to kiss him. He didn’t know how he began to tell him stories of happier times, about his family, about the past. But he began slowly, detailing Hanzo’s first lessons in archery and how he had tried to shoot an apple off atop his head only to miss entirely and hit their father’s car. Or how he smuggled an Akita puppy into the compound and had almost managed to keep him had he not strewn his father’s paperwork around his study or dug up their mother’s flowers. Zenyatta silently listened to his rambling tales only occasionally stopping him to ask a question. Genji truly had no idea what had loosed his tongue this way, he supposed he did it in a vain and what he deemed to be a feeble attempt to take his mind off what happened. Ultimately, when he had run out of anecdotes and his throat was sore and aching he wasn’t sure if he had done anything more than bore him. Not until he heard Zenyatta whisper a tired but warm “Thank you”, before dozing off. 

 

Genji woke the next morning to see Zenyatta already missing. He looked around to find that he was meditating just a few inches from the bed, his form levitating a few feet off the floor, his orbs chiming an ethereal chorus. Genji didn’t dare to disturb him instead he joined him, quickly adopting a lotus position and his mind easily lapsing into the calm orderly void that had taken long and arduous months of work to perfect. They stayed like that for an hour before he felt a cool hand on his shoulder and he opened his eyes to see Zenyatta kneeling beside him. Genji leaned up to kiss him “Did you sleep well?”, he asked. 

 

“Very well, much better than I expected. Thank you Genji”, Zenyatta answered, kissing him back.

 

“I didn’t really do much but ramble.”

 

“You shared stories of your childhood with me. That’s far from what I would deem a ramble.”

 

“Only because you’re so kind, I’m pretty sure the 15-minute story about my father’s lost wedding ring would fall under that category, though.”

 

“Perhaps, but at least it ended happily.”

 

“I’m not so sure about that.”

 

“He ended up retrieving it.”

 

“Yes, but after hours of searching through the garbage and Hanzo and I had to help”, he said pulling a disgusted face.

 

Zenyatta gave him chuckle though it lacked its usual strength. “I’m sure you’ve endured worse things”, he said, walking towards the door.

 

“Not yet”, Genji answered as he followed him out into the hallway. The monastery was already overrun with activity. Mondatta’s body was laid out in his old room, the agents had brought him in despite the lack of instructions mere moments after Zenyatta’s solemn announcement and the oldest monks of the order had confined themselves there to pray over his body. In 4 days time he would be cremated, his ashes kept in his room amidst the white chrysanthemums and the acrid scent of incense. He knew from the reports from a shaky voiced Suman that there would be mourners coming from all over to pay their respects, Genji briefly wondered if Tracer would be among them as he trailed behind Zenyatta who was making preparations for the ceremony. He had been fairly reticent through everything he noticed, only when they retired to Genji’s room at night would he see the subtle cracks in his composure and the full extent of his sadness. Despite his lack of experience, he soothed him as best he could, massaging his back as he dredged up the more humorous tales his mother had told him or the stories Hanzo had whispered to him when they were young. He knew it was only a temporary solution, a desperate effort to help alleviate some of the pain, but for the moment he contented himself with the knowledge that at the very least he was helping him doze off peacefully. 

 

They spent the next 3 nights that way until finally, the day of the funeral arrived. The ceremony was held in the early afternoon, droves of people, far more than he had expected, descended upon the monastery many of them on foot to pay their final respects to Mondatta. The simple urn that held his ashes was already situated in his room. They had cremated him the night before, the fire burning for long hours until there was nothing left but the blackish and silver ash that covered the pyre like fine grains of sand. Genji had stayed close to Zenyatta’s side throughout the duration of that somber affair, not sure what to expect. But Zenyatta showed no signs of distress even as they stoked the fire and Mondatta’s form was slowly engulfed in flames, or even as he and the other monks began to chant their prayers in loud even tones. He was almost baffled that he had yet to display anything beyond a resigned and calm sense of sadness but he knew that sometimes grief came unexpectedly so he remained close by him as the ceremony began. 

 

The last time he had been in this position he had been the one in need of consoling. Hanzo had stayed by him throughout their father’s funeral in a kind of overly alert state, his dark eyes continually darting back to him, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. Genji at the time hadn’t seen it, too wrapped up in the mantle of despair and bone crushing regret. As the ceremony dragged on and family and subordinates filed into the compound he began detailing a long list of things he could have done differently. He could have come home earlier that night, he could have kissed his father’s brow before he left the house, told him how much he loved him, spent more time at his bedside. There were so many unfulfilled wants and seemingly endless regrets that he spent the next few hours sobbing over that alone. From what he knew of Mondatta and Zenyatta’s relationship there would be no long list of regrets just a deep and pervasive sense of sadness. That was the general mood of the crowd around him as the ceremony went on and he reflected on not only what Zenyatta had lost but also the chance he had missed in getting to know Mondatta better. True, they hadn’t spoken much in the short time he had stayed there and just as Zenyatta had warned him he was enigmatic to the point that Genji sometimes wondered if he did it more as a way to befuddle his brothers than as a natural point of his character. He was different from Zenyatta in his way but they both shared a tender kindness, a quick wit, and an unnerving sense of wisdom that he would come to miss. His only regret, he realized, was that he hadn’t properly thanked him for giving him a temporary place to belong, a place where he was treated as an equal and not an oddity. He bit his lip in an attempt to keep his composure but ultimately failed as he felt the first few tears slide down his face as the daylight began to fade and the ceremony finally came to an end.

 

Zenyatta was still by his side as groups of mourning people and omnics crowded into his space to give their condolences. He accepted their words graciously as they heaped small gifts and large bouquets into his arms to the point that the chamber was overrun with flowers and the scent of lilies became overpowering. It was only when he had ushered people out into the corridors and had set them out to roam the grounds or take refuge in one of the huge and well-lit chambers to partake of the variety of teas Suman had delicately prepared that he realized Zenyatta was absent from his side. He looked for him in his room, and amongst the groups of monks who attended to their guests but couldn’t find him. He strode out into the courtyard scanning the grounds for any sign of his partner until something caught his eye. A familiar gleam sat high atop the cliff they had used to spar on, he allowed himself a moment to smile at the familiarity of the gesture as he began the steep climb to where Zenyatta was. He found him sitting on the ledge observing the sun’s slow descent into the sky, his legs folded in front of him and his hands on his knees. “Ah Genji, I knew you would find me here”, he said warmly as Genji walked over and sat down next to him.

 

“Of course”, Genji answered. For the first time in months the space between them felt awkward, he wanted to say something, lay out some simple sentence that could help to abate some of the pain. But Genji knew that no such sentence existed and though he had offered his condolences before it didn’t seem like enough. “Sorry”, was too simple for a situation so difficult and “I wish things were different”, was too obvious and seemingly trite. There were no words to make up for loss, there were only gestures. He brought his arm around Zenyatta’s shoulders and he leaned against him with a deep sigh that held notes of a deep and almost unnerving fatigue. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

 

“I’m not certain at the moment”, Zenyatta answered. 

 

“Do you want to talk about it?”, he asked, his mind darting back to that afternoon in the kitchen with Hanzo. 

 

“Later perhaps. Death is a path we all must walk, but even so”, he trailed off for a moment, his head tilting back to observe the sky and the birds as they flew overhead caught on a sudden breeze. “I will miss him dearly”, he said finally, his voice breaking as Genji pulled him into a tight hug, his whole body racked with tearless sobs. He held him through it, rubbing his back in an attempt to soothe him. They spent the next hour there in each other's arms until they were finally forced to make the climb down as the air grew unbearably cold and the glow of the lanterns could be seen in the courtyard below.

 

As the night wound down and people either took their leave to guesthouses or opted to stay in the somewhat drafty chambers of the monastery Genji retired to his own room as Zenyatta excused himself to go speak with some of the older monks. He reluctantly let him go, the memories of the night Hanzo had slipped away to speak to the clan elders flitting through his mind and then disappearing as quickly as it came. At the time he hadn’t wanted to bog Zenyatta down with questions but with Mondatta’s death, there was no one to lead the Shambali. He had to wonder if he would take on the duties his brother had left behind, or would he decline and they would continue their nomadic lifestyle coming and going as they pleased. Selfishly he hoped Zenyatta would turn down their offer, he had grown accustomed to his presence by his side, their uninterrupted time together. Though he would support his decision whatever it would be he couldn’t help but balk at the idea of having to lose his undivided attention in favor of the recital of old scrolls and the overseeing of the congregation. A moment later Zenyatta came through the door, Genji sat up and beckoned him into his arms, the monk came willingly kissing the side of his face “Are you doing alright?”, Genji asked softly, pulling him closer to bury his face in the side of his neck. 

 

“I will be in time”, Zenyatta assured him with a gentle sigh. “I just finished speaking with some of the eldest members of the Shambali.” 

 

“What did they say?” 

 

“They believe that given the circumstances I should follow in my brother’s stead and take up the task of leadership.” 

 

Genji swallowed back any objections he could have made. “And what did you say?” 

 

“I said that I could not.” 

 

“What? Why?”, he asked, honestly confused. 

 

“Although I had always held that title in a way I left much of the duties of leadership to my brother. There are a fair number of the others who would want me to take on that role, but there are many who are more qualified than I who would be willing to take the position.” 

 

“You’re the most qualified person I know”, Genji insisted.

 

“Perhaps, but during our travels, I have seen that we can do just as much good out in the world than as we do here. That we don’t have to simply confine ourselves to the monastery to be of use. Though I’m sure there are many, especially now, who would disagree with me given what’s happened”, his voice broke for a moment but he recovered quickly. “But Mondatta would not have wanted us to live in fear, if we had we would have never mustered up the courage to leave”, he paused to take Genji by the hand, his fingers ghosting over his knuckles along his wrist. “Perhaps one day I’ll return to help lead them, but for now I feel my place is elsewhere.” 

 

“Who’s going to fill that void until you return then?”

 

“They will find someone. Before I left to come speak with you I suggested several of my brothers who would be well suited for the task.”

 

Genji didn’t speak right away, his eyes trained on the union of their hands and in the delicate way Zenyatta’s fingers massaged his palm. “I thought you would be happy. After all, it means you will still have my undivided attention”, Zenyatta said, a hint of a chuckle in his voice.

 

“Of course I’m happy. I just thought you would want the chance to lead them for awhile, give them a different perspective on your teachings.”

 

“You think it would be best for me to assume that role now?”

 

“It doesn’t matter what I think.”

 

“It matters a great deal”, Zenyatta answered softly. When Genji didn’t respond after a few minutes he spoke again. “I am happy to see how deeply you’ve thought about this Genji, but honestly I am not mentally up to the task at the moment. Also, regardless of what my elders would hope I would want to lead by example not by simply teaching from our scrolls. But perhaps the most compelling reason is that my place is with you wherever that may be”, he said, kissing the back of his hands. 

 

“Are you sure you want to do this?”, Genji asked, more than a little flushed. 

 

“I am quite sure”, Zenyatta answered, “Just as you were willing to put aside everything to help my brother, I would like the chance to do the same for you.”

 

Genji shook his head “I guess there’s just no arguing with you”, he said with a resigned sort of sigh.

 

“It would seem that way”, Zenyatta answered with a brief chuckle before kissing him again. Genji pulled him under the covers a moment later, kissing him back, the both of them content to simply lay there and let their cares temporarily fade away as sleep overtook them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments, as usual, I really appreciate it. Sorry, this chapter took so long to get out. I've been trying to stick to a 2-week schedule but things have been rather hectic. So a lot of stuff happened this chapter but this is beginning to set things in motion, and we'll find out what's going on with Hanzo and the others pretty soon as well. Thanks for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji receives the recall message and wonders if he should come back and whether Zenyatta should accompany him.

The recall came swiftly on the heels of the mourning period. He had just finished meditating with Zenyatta early one morning and had reluctantly let him go off to attend to his chores when he saw the message on his phone. He couldn’t place the ID number that came attached with it but it seemed vaguely familiar as it flashed across the screen as he quickly scanned the short line of text. It was simply a call for all willing agents to come back to active duty as well as an open invitation for any new heroes who would be willing to offer their aid. The dawn of a new Overwatch, the chance to do better, it made sense he supposed, Mondatta’s death had only helped to further fuel the conflict between omnics and humans. For several weeks after the ceremony, he had sequestered himself away from the world in an attempt to help Zenyatta through his grief. When he finally did resurface from his self-imposed respite he checked his newsfeed only to find that it was over populated with reports of unrest between the two factions and that there was an uprising of angered omnic citizens who felt it was their duty to avenge Mondatta. He wasn’t at all surprised by their outrage, he had felt much the same way, even going so far as to hope that he could find Widowmaker one day to repay her. But he had hastily tossed aside those ideas, he knew for himself that revenge was a dark and perilous road that led to nothing but bloodied hands and hollow hearts. Instead, when he wasn’t spending time with Zenyatta he plunged himself into his chores.

 

The familiarity of routine was a small comfort amidst the uncertainty of what the future held. The Shambali were not in shambles by any means, but the murder of their leader left many open ended questions as to how they would go on and what it meant for the rest of the world. As he moved around his room at a glacial pace, sweeping the floor and making up the bed his mind ran through a long mental list of unsettling inquiries. Talon killed Mondatta to incite fear and anger, but to what end? What did the clan stand to gain? What would happen to those poor omnics they had essentially enslaved? And what of Hanzo, how would the two of them as heirs to the clan fit into the conflict? He wasn’t sure of any of the answers.

 

He would have laid out his concerns to Zenyatta, but most of his time was spent in a kind of gridlock with his elders, who despite his fervent protests, had still been trying to get him to take on the task of leadership. He barely even had enough time to mention the recall to him before he was unwillingly pulled into another long and arduous discourse with them, going back and forth over arcane protocols and over a long list of potential candidates. Eventually, Genji grew annoyed with their persistence, making his displeasure known on several occasions. “I suppose they are like you in that respect”, Zenyatta answered one night as they sat in his room nestled under the blankets. 

 

“Even I know when to quit”, Genji grumbled. 

 

“Really?”, Zenyatta inquired with a chuckle. 

 

“Of course I do.” 

 

“I seem to recall someone who would not stop insisting that we have a rematch when I won at Fighters of the Storm.” 

 

“I did stop...after the 20th time”, he said, a blush coloring his face as Zenyatta laughed softly in his ear as he leaned in to kiss him. Genji was always heartened to hear his laughter, especially now. He had been keeping a careful eye on him ever since Mondatta’s ceremony. Those first few weeks had been hard. He stayed close to him as much as he could, lavishing on him a tenderness that he never knew he had, employing a kindness that at one time he would have questioned the genuineness of. But here there was no pretense, he meant every word he whispered to him, every action taken in earnest. He made it his duty to look after him, listen to the stories he supplied on a nightly basis about his brother. To be closeby on those days where his grief was so pervasive that he could see it in every flick of his wrists and every tilt of his head. Those were the days where he pulled him closer, where Zenyatta laid bare his pain and voiced his sadness and regrets in even but melancholy tones. He told him how much he missed Mondatta, and how he wished he had gotten a chance to speak to him one last time. 

 

Genji understood his regrets well, he had wrestled with those kinds of thoughts for years. “There’s never enough time”, he said late one afternoon as he held him in his arms after having thoroughly kissed him along the lines of his neck. “When my father passed I felt like there were so many things I could have done differently. I could have spent more time with him, talked to him more. But I realized that even though I wasn’t always there he knew how much I cared about him. And even if I could have done all those things every day for hours on end it still wouldn’t be enough. I would still want more time.”

 

Zenyatta hummed in thought “That’s true. No matter how long we were together, naturally I would desire another hour to speak with him or another moment to let him know how much I cared for him. As you said there would never be enough time.” Zenyatta kissed him “Thank you Genji, you have truly been too good to me.” 

 

“I’ve learned from the best.” 

 

“That is lofty praise.”

 

“Yes, praise that you usually refuse to accept.”

 

“Normally, but it’s been proven to be a fruitless endeavor to convince you to refrain from praising me so highly. So I thought I would remain silent on the matter.” 

 

“I think my self-confidence is rubbing off on you.”

 

“Or perhaps I had it all along and you were simply unaware.”

 

“I guess I still have a lot to learn”, he answered with a chuckle.

 

“It seems that we both do”, Zenyatta answered, as Genji massaged his fingers along his torso.

 

They spent many a day like that. Zenyatta would leave the comfort of their bed early in the morning to speak with his elders and suggest a new list of candidates who could lead them. Meanwhile Genji would grumble for half an hour before begrudgingly rolling out of bed and sinking himself into his chores. At night Zenyatta would return to his room weary but usually in good spirits and Genji would gently pull him into bed and they would talk about the affairs of the day in hushed tones as he kissed him and stroked his head and arms with a persistence that verged on being over eager. But he couldn't help it, he was beyond himself with a different kind of desire. One that was just as strong as what he had felt before he had made his clumsy confession. A pervasive feeling that until recently he couldn’t name but soon came to identify it as the feeling he had desperately searched for; love. 

 

He had felt it for a long time he realized but had only come to recognize just what it was one morning about a week ago. He had woken up with Zenyatta laid out next to him, his hand splayed over his stomach the gentle heat of his hardware warming his side. He had looked down at him and had been suddenly struck with the desire to leave everything behind, to take him somewhere far away from the clan, from Talon, from anyone who would ever dare to harm him. He wanted to settle down, start a life with him. Genji took several deep breaths, completely floored by the strength of that feeling. He had never been in love before. Although he had acknowledged all that he felt with Zenyatta; the joy, the trust, the respect, the hope, but he had never equated it until now with that lofty concept. He had assumed long ago that he wasn’t meant to love anyone and he himself would never receive love without a multitude of strings attached, a notion that was further cemented with the loss of his body. But now, as he sat by the open window listening to the gentle chatter of the birds as he waited for Zenyatta to return he thought he could understand in the vaguest of ways what his mother had told him. 

 

He had only been 7 at the time, and girls and love were both foreign concepts better left to the scrutiny of adults. But she had explained it to him at his request after one of the girls in his class had declared she had loved him from the moment she saw him and had presented him with a poorly wrapped but extensive box of chocolates which he had accepted in a state of alarmed but thankful confusion. He hadn’t known what to say other than a muffled “Thank you”, as he beat a hasty retreat from the girl who watched him expectantly and spent the rest of the day covertly sneaking chocolates until he had eaten most of the box by the time Hanzo had come to collect him. Genji shared the remaining sweets with him as their driver sped them home, “How did you eat all of these?”, Hanzo inquired in dismay as Genji shrugged, a wide smile on his face. Despite his acceptance of the gift he still didn’t truly understand the meaning behind the gesture. He asked Hanzo about it as they sat there speeding past crowds of people and through the bustling shopping district. His brother’s face scrunched up in distaste “Love at first sight is only for fairy tales and movies”, he proclaimed with a dismissive wave of his hand “That doesn’t really happen.” 

 

“How do you know?” 

 

“Mother told me so.” 

 

“When did you ask her about that?” 

 

“After a girl gave me a box like this. Except mine was bigger.”

 

“To match your head?”, Genji asked, managing to duck as Hanzo swatted at him. They had a brief exchange of light blows before they received a mild reprimand from their driver and were forced to settle down. “If you really want to know more you can always ask her”, Hanzo said after situating himself back in his seat and stealing one of his chocolates. As they got out of the car he made up his mind to ask her while Hanzo hauled his kendo gear out of the trunk. They found her on the porch outlooking the courtyard potting daylily bulbs, her long hair pulled into a tight braid, her hands turning over the soil as she hummed some dated pop song. Hanzo kissed her on the cheek before running past them and into the house. Genji sat down next to her while she continued to work. She asked him about his day after planting a kiss on his cheek which he answered with his usual enthusiasm as he watched her place more potting mix around the bulbs. “What’s it like to be in love?”, he asked abruptly after a long moment of silence. His mother looked at him, considering his question as she set the pot aside and wiped her hands with a frayed rag. 

 

“It’s hard to describe”, she said slowly “When you’re around the one you love you feel safe, overjoyed, and maybe even a little anxious. When you love someone you want to do what’s best for them, you want to support them, make sure they’re as happy as they’ve made you. Love is something you work at it, there will be times when it’s tough, where you’ll argue. But eventually, if you work at it, you learn to accept them as they are just like they’ve come to accept you.” A tranquil smile spread across her face as she ruffled his hair “Love is a mysterious emotion little sparrow. I know one day you’ll find someone who will really make you understand it.” 

 

Genji had considered her words back then but hadn’t been sure what to make of them. The kind of love she described was something he couldn’t wrap his head around. He knew about familial love; he felt it every time his mother hoisted him in her arms to kiss him, or all the times his father had taken time out of his schedule to play with him, or when Hanzo had gone out of his way to look after him. But he had never found that love his mother had told him about. Not even as he had indulged in every overtly passionate thought that crossed his mind reducing feelings to a meaningless afterthought as he took countless partners. He had simply assumed one night as he crept back into the darkened and lonely confine of his room that he wouldn’t find it. He could scarcely even remember a time he had felt anything so tender towards any of the people he took to bed, unable to conjure up any feeling beyond a passing attraction and a weary gratitude. 

 

Now though, he took a deep breath filling his lungs with the cool mountain air. He had finally found it. He laughed softly to himself in an effort to halt the tears that suddenly sprung to his eyes at his mother’s words. He wished for a fleeting moment that she had lived long enough to see how right she was. “She would like him right away”, he thought with a wistful smile, his father, on the other hand, would take some convincing. And as for Hanzo, he had no idea what he would think. He sighed, a little baffled that he had been feeling love this whole time and was so slow that it took him till just recently to realize it. It had just felt like such a natural progression of their time together, a subtle extension of his feelings that it had barely crossed his mind. Though they had yet to utter the words to each other Genji was sure Zenyatta had to feel the same way so he didn’t feel the kind of mind-numbing fear that he did before that bumbling confession back in Hanamura. But he did feel a strange kind of reluctance, his eyes darting back to his phone and the still unanswered message of the recall, his mind traveling to that night several weeks ago and the sound of the gunshot.

 

Regardless of Zenyatta’s constant reassurances that Mondatta's death was not his fault it still pained him every time he saw him fall victim to that almost impenetrable sadness. He felt guilty that he hadn’t been faster and that, to his mind, he had essentially let her go. Maybe if he had ended things with her on that ledge, been more accurate, more ruthless, than maybe Mondatta would still be alive. Instead of his ashes lying within that simple brass urn in his room nestled amidst a mass of wilting flowers. It was a pain that he had resigned himself to. But what he couldn’t resign himself to, what he refused to let happen was to allow Zenyatta to suffer a similar fate. 

 

He thought about some of the missions he had run in the past, even the few that didn’t involve the clan had been just as dangerous, perhaps even more so. He remembered countless times he had narrowly escaped fatal blows and barely managed to evade capture. He swallowed back the dull ache that suddenly pained his throat and tried to ignore the sudden burning in his eyes at the thought of any such thing happening to Zenyatta. He had barely been able to contain himself when that bullet had grazed his arm, he could only imagine how he would react if someone would be fool enough to actually threaten him. The mere thought of it had him break out in an icy sweat and left a bad taste in his mouth. He knew from past experiences that Zenyatta would have a volley of retorts and quiet reassurances on hand that would squash all his arguments and waylay his objections. But the thought of Talon and what they had done to Mondatta nearly brought tears to his eyes. He couldn’t be privy to something like that again, and if that meant being separated from him he was willing to do it. 

 

Genji felt his heart ache at the thought since they had begun their journey the two of them had been inseparable. Of course, there had been moments when they had been apart but it was never for very long and always with the promise of a quick return. If he went back to Overwatch he didn’t know how long it would take for him to return and given what he would be up against he questioned if he would be able to at all. He took several deep breaths, his mind whirling wildly out of control. It hadn’t been like this in a long time, he tried to steady himself as he brought his legs up on the bed and got into a lotus position. He let all his worries, the crippling fears, and the damnable unanswered questions lay themselves out before him. He took them all apart, disassembling them with clinical precision until each one was carefully examined from every angle and then washed away by a cold and unyielding tide. He stayed like that, his mind once again calm and peaceful. Thoughts of the future, for the moment, swept aside. Within the hour Zenyatta returned to the room, slightly fatigued but cheerful. As he felt him sit down next to him he immediately stopped what he was doing and pulled him into a tight embrace the thought of leaving prominent in his mind but the call still unanswered. 

 

Along with the recall came a text message from Jesse. He received it about a week later from a different number than before. Genji could only assume it was due to him ditching his old phone, he was probably still on the run after all. He saw it early one morning right after he had finished meditating, still weighing his options on whether he should leave and when to talk to Zenyatta about it. Considering everything that had happened he surmised that he should put it off for awhile. Instead he turned his attention to Jesse’s text which simply read _Hey you see that recall message?_

 

He quickly responded. _Yes but I haven’t answered it yet._

_Figured you wouldn’t want to jump into anything too soon. Gotta say it’s got me interested, though. Reckon it beats bumming around in the desert all day._

_Do you think it would work? What about the UN?_

_I’d wager they’d try to squash it. But looking at what’s been going down I figure it's in their best interest to let it happen._

_That’s what I thought too. Are you thinking of going back?_

_Can’t say yet. I’d have to shake off these head hunters first. But it would be nice to have the old gang back together. What about you?_

_I’m not sure._

_I get ‘ya would be nice to see you, though. Wouldn’t mind seeing that ‘ol dragon soaring through the sky again._

_I’ve barely called upon him lately._

_You trying to tell me you’re rusty?_

_No, and besides that could never happen._

_Not so sure about that._

_Are you trying to deny my skills?_

_Naw just saying you didn’t always hit your marks._

_I hit my marks when it counted._

_And never at any other time._

_Maybe but I remember many a night spent at the shooting range where I scored higher than you._

_Don’t remember that._

_You were drunk most of the time it makes sense that you wouldn’t._

_That’s mighty cold Genji. I don’t recall you turning down a few drinks._

_Yes. A few drinks. Not 10 drinks._

_I know how to hold my liquor._

_Sorry if I don’t believe you after having to drag you down from the watchtower singing “Jolene” at the top of your lungs._

_Damn. I can’t ever catch a break with you can I? Didn’t you say you were training to be a monk? You’d think some of that peace and forgiveness would’ve rubbed off on you by now._

_It has. I could’ve brought up that incident in Numbani with the payload but I didn’t._

_Shit. Let me talk to your teacher. I think they’ve been dropping the ball._

_That’s not possible. He’s the most competent mentor I’ve ever had._

_Is that right?_

_Yes. I wouldn’t be who I am today if it weren’t for him. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me._

_Huh._

_What? What is it?_

_The way you talk I’d say you’ve got a thing for this mentor of your’s._

 

Genji didn’t respond right away trying to will away the blush that had crept over his face. A moment later Jesse texted back. _Looks like I was right._

_You don’t have to be smug about it._

_I ain’t. Just never thought I’d live to see the day ‘ol playboy Genji Shimada would be head over heels._

_Is that really so hard to imagine?_

_Naw. All jokes aside I’m happy for you. About time you found someone to settle down with._

_I don’t know when we would...but I’d like to eventually._

_Well shoot. Now I’ve heard everything. Now I can see why you’re dragging your feet on whether to go back or not._

_Yeah._

 

There was a short pause before Jesse replied back. _Look if you got a good thing going then don’t sweat it._

 

Genji smiled wistfully at his response before texting back. _I wouldn’t normally. But I just found out that the clan is back together._

_What the hell._

_I know. And they’re working with Talon. If I rejoined Overwatch I would have a better chance of stopping whatever they’re planning._

_Damn._

_Yeah. I’m not sure what I should do._

_It’s a tough call that’s for damn sure._ There was a long pause before he replied. _Listen we’ll have to talk about this later I gotta run._

_Ok. Be safe out there._

_I can try._ And with that the screen went dark. Genji turned off his phone and laid out on the bed seized with a strong wave of anxiety and entirely unsure of what he should do. 

 

After 4 more days of deliberation, the Shambali elders were finally able to come to an agreement. They chose a monk by the name of Adil, a slightly newer model with an almost pearlescent sheen to his hardware and a long scratch down the length of his chassis. He had been with them from the beginning, hailing from the same facility Zenyatta and the others had escaped from. Genji didn’t know him that well but from what he observed he was seemingly tranquil and serene, but with a wicked sense of humor and an overly analytical outlook on things that the elders feared could pose a problem in the future. Zenyatta assured them that he would learn, he was younger than him by a few years but even now he already had the knowledge and the poise to accomplish the task. 

 

When the decision had been made they issued a formal announcement early the next morning to the uproarious applause of the crowd. Genji was glad, it meant that Zenyatta wouldn’t have to constantly be roped into long and exhausting debates with his elders. But even as happy as he was he couldn’t help but fret over the recall message that was slowly being buried under his correspondence with Jesse. He still couldn’t make up his mind about whether to leave or not and as the days went by his indecisiveness only seemed to grow. He considered it from every angle, the implications of it, he had never wanted to be part of Overwatch but somehow along the way he had come to begrudgingly enjoy it, going from a frustrated outsider to a trusted ally. Considering everything that had happened it almost felt wrong not to come back. He considered his options as he carried out his chores, still wondering whether it would be a good idea to have Zenyatta accompany him. He hadn’t brought it up yet, too preoccupied with his own conflicted feelings and the fervent desire not to burden him down with his problems when he had his own to deal with. Zenyatta hadn’t mentioned anything, he had only inquired as to whether he wanted to resume his search for Hanzo or not. He had given him a weak-willed reply which he accepted without another thought and had gone off to make the necessary preparations so they could make their way down the mountain.

 

The following morning they left the monastery to the hearty but pensive farewells of the monks. Genji had no particular destination in mind other than maybe making a quick stop on Amami to see if Hanzo had at least been there. Zenyatta made no objections to his plan he merely seemed happy to be traveling again. Genji shared his joy, but the thought of the unanswered recall message weighed heavily on his mind. He and Jesse had gone back and forth on the notion of returning and though he didn’t press him for what his decision would be Jesse had made it quite clear that he was planning to make his way to Gibraltar the moment he had thrown those persistent bounty hunters off his trail. Genji scrolled through his texts that evening in the room of the guesthouse as Zenyatta slept next to him, his orbs laying dormant around his shoulders. Genji once again considered the notion of returning to Overwatch; what it would mean for his search for Hanzo, for his plan to disassemble the clan, what it would mean for the two of them. He turned it over in his mind for long hours as he fiddled with his phone. Until finally he found himself responding, punching in his old ID number with trembling fingers and an estimate of how long it would take for him to arrive at the watchpoint. 

 

The next day as they continued their way down the mountain, past the familiar sights of the rhododendrons and the lushly covered hillsides, Genji couldn’t bring himself to tell him what he was planning. He knew sooner or later he would have to unloose his tongue and tell him that he was going to leave and ask that he patiently await his return. Genji scoffed at himself, it felt cruel and needlessly melodramatic to leave and then implore him to wait for him. Honestly, the mere notion of leaving Zenyatta behind pained him to the brink of heartbreak. But he had considered it for long hours as he laid awake next to him and had come to the distressing conclusion that he couldn’t possible take Zenyatta with him. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that it took him several minutes to realize that Zenyatta had suddenly gone silent. And he could tell in the way he shuffled his feet and in the slow fitful movements of his arms that his thoughts were elsewhere.

 

Genji understood, just because he engaged in their usual banter and spoke of his brother in strong even tones didn’t mean that he wasn’t still grieving. There were still days where he would quickly lose the thread of the conversation as if he were somewhere else. His mind pulled back to the moments before the air broke with the sound of the gunshot and his eyes fixed on the sky as if he were watching that fateful battle once again. Genji allowed him time to brood over his memories, holding his hand through the moments where his thoughts took him back to the chaotic whirlwind of sound and movement that made up their exodus from King’s Row. He decided he would tell him on a good day. He would lay out to him all the reasons why he had to make this journey alone, endeavor to ignore the fierce pain his absence would bring, and implore him to stay back at the monastery. Finally, one evening, as they sat in bed together after a long day of hiking Zenyatta brought it up of his own volition. “Are you going to tell me or shall I have to ask you directly?”, he asked softly.

 

“Ask me what?”

 

“Ask you what has been weighing so heavily on your mind for the past few days.”

 

Genji sighed “I can’t hide anything from you can I?”, he asked almost ruefully. 

 

“Would you want to?” 

 

“No, I’ve just been thinking about this recall.” 

 

“Ah yes, I remember you mentioning that you received it a few weeks ago. Have you not responded to it?”

 

“I have. I said I would come back.”

 

“That is wonderful news Genji. But then why are you so unsettled?”

 

“I’m unsettled because I’ve been thinking about what that would mean for the both of us.” 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

“If I go back I’ll officially be part of Overwatch. I can always leave again but I need to make sure the clan is taken care of, and that could take longer than a couple of weeks.”

 

“What is it you’re trying to say Genji?”

 

“I don’t think you should come with me. I don’t want to force you into Overwatch and then something happens. It’s not that I think you’re weak, I know how strong you are. But I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you”, he said, feeling breathless and oddly guilty in the wake of his hurried confession. 

 

Zenyatta fondly ruffled his hair, when he spoke it was in such a soft tone Genji almost had to lean forward to hear it. “And I can not live peacefully if you are not by my side. I understand your concerns Genji and it always touches me to see how deeply you care. But I cannot in good conscious let you go off into danger without me. I fear I would grow sick with worry over you.” 

 

“I would be fine”, he offered weakly. 

 

“Forgive me if I’m not inclined to believe you. You seem far too prone to injury for my liking”, he said, kissing him as he stroked his hair, his fingers chilled by the night air ghosting over his scalp. “The world has need of Overwatch again, perhaps now more than ever. It would be an honor to aid such a worthy cause.” 

 

“You want to join? Really?” 

 

Zenyatta’s hands stilled for a moment. “If there is a way that I can prevent what happened to my brother from happening to someone else then I will gladly do it”, he answered. “But also I don’t think I can bear to be parted from you for so long.” 

 

Genji sighed, he had a feeling he would cave into Zenyatta’s wishes but he had failed to estimate how quickly it would happen. “I feel the same way”, he said finally. “I just didn’t want to put you in harm’s way. I love you, if something happened I don’t know what’d I do.”

 

Zenyatta suddenly went still in his arms as if he were surprised, his hands retreating from his scalp and coming to rest on his shoulders. “Are you shocked to hear me say that?”, Genji asked, more than a little dismayed that he had let that hallowed phrase so casually slip.

 

“I never doubted your feelings”, Zenyatta answered warmly. “Your actions have shown me how deeply you care, but it is still a great honor and a privilege to hear the words. I hope I have shown that I feel the same.”

 

“I’d still like to hear you say it”, Genji replied, pulling him closer.

 

Zenyatta chuckled low in his ear, “You are never easily satisfied.” 

 

“No, but you already knew that.”

 

“I suppose I did. But it is just one of the many things about you that I have come to love so dearly.”

 

“What are the others?”

 

“It is a rather extensive list Genji.”

 

“We have time.”

 

“Are you essentially asking me to stroke your ego?”

 

“Amongst other things”, Genji replied with a sly smile.

 

“Ah, I suppose that is why when I leave I often return to find you in such compromising positions?”, Zenyatta asked, a hint of mischief in his voice. 

 

“I wouldn’t have to be in those compromising positions if you would just help me out a little more”, he replied, petulant. 

 

“I find that after 4 consecutive times even I begin to grow weary.” 

 

“You’re younger than I am.” 

 

“Even so, that does not change the fact that you are still insatiable.” 

 

“You can’t blame me for that. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, of course it’s hard for me to get enough.”

 

“High praise, I have to admit I feel similarly.” 

 

“You do?” 

 

“Of course.”

 

“This is the first time I’m hearing about it.”

 

“I would tell you more often but I’m worried such praise would make you grow arrogant”, Zenyatta replied, his tone heavily colored with mirth.

 

“That would never happen”, Genji answered dramatically.

 

“How can I be sure?”

 

“I promise, as long as you stay with me I’ll never grow arrogant.”

 

“A brilliant vow and I promise to compliment you just enough so that you do not feel neglected.”

 

“I’ll take it, but you still haven’t given me your confession yet.”

 

“I suppose it slipped my mind”, Zenyatta answered with a soft chuckle. He kissed him once, lingering a little longer than usual before he spoke, his tone warm and reverent. “I have loved you for some time now. I hope I have never given you any reason to question that.”

 

“You haven’t”, Genji answered firmly, kissing him before pulling him into a tight embrace, a slight tremor working its way through his hands and up to his fingertips. Zenyatta quickly noticed it, his hand that had traveled back to his hair stopping. “Something is still troubling you”, he stated. Genji could only give him a silent nod, the fears that had plagued him for the past several days resurfacing as he clung to him, his hands continuing to shake.

 

“What is it?”, Zenyatta asked.

 

When Genji finally spoke it was in a choked whisper, his tone wavering. “I failed Mondatta”, he rasped “I failed you. What if something similar happens?”, he asked, nearly hysterical. “I can’t lose you. I wouldn’t be able to go on.” 

 

Zenyatta was silent in the face of his panicked confession. The only sound to cut through the hush that had fallen over them was the gentle whir of his hardware. At one time he had likened it to a computer fan, but now it sounded more organic like the gentle beating of his heart, a cherished tone. Zenyatta silently brought his hands up to cup his face, his thumb gently brushing away an errant tear before he kissed him on the forehead. It was such a tender gesture that it brought more tears to his eyes which he quickly wiped away. “You haven’t failed anyone, least of all me. You have gone above and beyond what I could have ever asked for, not only to assist my brother but also to help me, even forsaking your own goals. I must go with you.” 

 

“What if someone tries to attack you?”, Genji asked, having managed to regain his composure.

 

“I will entrust you to watch my back.” 

 

“What if I’m too late?”, he asked in a hoarse whisper. 

 

“You won’t be”, Zenyatta answered firmly. 

 

Genji didn’t repeat the question no matter how heavily it still weighed on his mind. He wanted desperately to believe that Zenyatta was right. But the thought of Widowmaker, Talon, and the clan’s miraculous revival had him on edge. Could they truly always be in the right place to save each other? He wasn’t sure and that only helped to thrust him further into a blind panic worse than any he had felt before. He clung to Zenyatta like a lifeline that might be cut any moment as he tried to steady himself, taking in desperate breaths that seem to make his whole body quake. Zenyatta held him through it, gently stroking the back of his head as he offered him soft reassurances. Until finally with a great deal of effort, he was calm again though that pervasive sense of fear for what their future held still had his mind in a state of disarray. “You still seem uncertain”, Zenyatta declared, stroking his fingers along his jaw. 

 

“I am”, he confessed breathlessly. “I want to believe what you said. But it just doesn’t seem likely that we’ll always be in the right place at the right time.” 

 

“We seem to have been fairly consistent thus far.” 

 

“Yes, but that’s only been a few instances. If we both join Overwatch there will be many battles, far more than we’ve been in. We may not always be teamed up together.” 

 

“We can endeavor to be”, Zenyatta answered simply. “We cannot live in constant fear Genji, I realize how easy it is after everything that’s happened. But we must move forward and endeavor to create a world where everyone can live peacefully, regardless of how they came to be. I believe working within Overwatch we would be able to achieve that goal.”

 

Genji sighed, he was truly fighting a losing battle. He leaned forward, his forehead landing gently on Zenyatta’s shoulder “I hate this”, he muttered. 

 

“Hate what?”, Zenyatta inquired, his fingers carding through his hair, lightly massaging his scalp. 

 

He shuddered briefly before answering. “That you keep coming up with such compelling rebuttals. Arguing with you is futile”, he said with a put-upon sigh. 

 

“I didn’t realize we were arguing.” 

 

“It’s barely an argument with you.” 

 

“Would you prefer it if it were?”

 

“No, besides I would just lose again.” 

 

Zenyatta chuckled lightly “Where did all that self-confidence go I wonder?”, he said, massaging his head. 

 

“Listen to you laughing. I’m actually hurt”, Genji said dramatically clutching his chest. 

 

“Your chest hurts?” 

 

“Yes, you’ve hurt my pride and that’s where it resides.” 

 

“Hmm, an orb of harmony would certainly help to ease your pain.” 

 

“No, my pain is too great. I need something else”, Genji replied with an impish grin. 

 

“Ah, I believe I know what you desire”, Zenyatta said knowingly before kissing his chest. “Is that the only place you’re experiencing pain?” 

 

“No, right here too”, Genji said, pointing to his mouth, which was currently spread into a devilish smirk. Zenyatta gave a short laugh before kissing him. The two of them stayed like that for long hours, caught in a tender embrace exchanging exhaustive caresses until fatigue finally set in and they were forced to fall asleep, still wrapped in each other’s arms. 

 

They left early the next morning. Though Genji’s fears weren’t completely laid to rest he realized that being separated from Zenyatta, even for a moment, sounded almost as terrifying a notion as putting him in danger. He made no further objections about it, instead, he tried to mentally ready himself for the next leg of the journey as they traversed through the streets of Kathmandu and eventually caught a flight back to Spain. As they drew closer to their destination Zenyatta’s passionate declaration rang in his ears. He had no doubts of his partner’s convictions, but his own worry had him feeling doubtful about the future, about what they would be up against, what they would have to endure. Ever since the incident in King’s Row he had been swept up in a constant state of worry that seemed to have no end, and that was only temporarily regulated to the back of his mind when he had set himself to his chores or sat down to meditate. He held Zenyatta’s hand throughout the duration of the flight, his quiet presence at his side helping to calm his thoughts and still the anxious trembling of his hands. He was being clingy he knew, but Zenyatta didn’t seem to mind. He never seemed to mind anything, not his awkward confessions, his fervent pawing, or even his boisterous moaning in bed. Though they had spent so much time together there were still aspects of Zenyatta’s character that remained a mystery to him, things he had yet to ask him, details of his past that were still unknown. But those undiscovered traits, those hidden quirks of his personality only further excited him, like he was solving some grand arcane puzzle. He wanted to know it all he realized, know him better than anyone else ever could. He promised himself that he would with a determination that rivaled anything he had felt before. And as the plane began its slow descent to the ground he promised himself to give him one more pleasant evening before they were forced to face that unknowable future.

 

By the time they landed in Barcelona, it was already dark, the city gleaming with a multitude of golden tinted lights that cut through the darkness like long strands of stars. Genji had initially complained about their inordinately long layover here but now he was thankful for their good fortune, the city acting as a perfect venue for what he had in mind. The pair cut through the crowded streets, the cool night air abuzz with cheerful voices and the faint sounds of music playing off in the distance. “I’m surprised you felt like venturing out into the city. I thought you might want to rest”, Zenyatta commented, as they made their way up the busy streets and to an enclave of small restaurants sheltered under a canopy of umbrellas with tiny lamps. “We can always rest later, and anyway I wanted to give you a nice evening out while we still have some free time”, he said, leading him to an intimate cafe. “I researched this place during our flight”, he said as held the door open for Zenyatta, “They have a nice variety of oils I thought you might be interested in trying.” 

 

“That was very thoughtful of you”, Zenyatta replied fondly as he strode inside. “Of course, but that’s nothing new”, he declared proudly. Zenyatta hummed but didn’t answer him, he only gave a light chuckle as Genji bumped his hip in mock annoyance. They found seats outside on the patio amidst large earthenware pots of red carnations and Spanish bluebells, the rich aroma of coffee and lime blossom tea filling the night air. When they received their drinks, without a second thought, Genji removed his faceplate and visor. Zenyatta set his cup down and considered him for a moment, his hands propped underneath his chin. “What is it?”, Genji asked, setting his own cup aside. 

 

“I was simply admiring you”, he answered warmly. 

 

Genji felt the blush before he could stop it, he waved off the embarrassment with his usual confidence, flimsy as it was under his partner’s gentle gaze. “You like what you see?”, he asked with a sly smirk. 

 

“I always have”, Zenyatta said fondly, which only served to make him blush harder. “But also I was admiring the wonderful progress you’ve made. At one time you would have never considered uncovering your face in public. I am very proud of you Genji, I am thankful I can be here to share this moment with you”, he said, taking his hand. 

 

“Me too”, Genji answered, a little awed that he hadn’t even realized such a drastic change. He gave a light sigh as he looked out over the patio, at the carnations swaying in the gentle breeze, at several couples as they passed by on the street, illuminated by the strings of lights that crisscrossed overhead. 

 

“I wish we could stay here”, he said abruptly with a wistful smile.

 

“In Barcelona?” 

 

“Here, or anywhere else. I’m not really sure if I want to go back, but I know it would be the best way to accomplish our goals.”

 

“I understand, but we do not have to remain there indefinitely. I’m sure there will be times where we can come and go as we please.” 

 

“I know, I’m just going to miss this.” 

 

“I will as well, but as tempting as it is we can’t simply sequester ourselves away. They called upon you because they have need of your strength and although I have never been part of Overwatch I believe I could be of use there as well.” 

 

“We could always use more healers.” 

 

“Then I suppose I will fit in quite well.” 

 

Genji briefly thought of Torbjorn “There are some people who will be there who don’t like omnics”, he cautioned. 

 

“There are everywhere I’m afraid, but that will not deter me. I have dealt with worse and I am certain when we become more acquainted we will reach a state of amiability.” 

 

“And you said _I_ had a big ego”, Genji teased. 

 

“A man cannot be comfortable without his own approval.”

 

“So you say”, Genji answered with a chuckle, his attention turning back to his tea. They soon retired to a small hotel in the heart of the city where Genji regaled him with stories of his more humorous moments with Overwatch, even relaying to him Jesse’s drunken mishap with the payload. They spent the next several hours that way until Zenyatta insisted they go to sleep since they had a flight to catch early the next afternoon. Despite that Genji woke them early the next morning with one final destination in mind before they made their way back to Gibraltar. He led Zenyatta through the bustling streets of the Horta and Guinardó district, past a line of shops and finally to the emerald jewel that was the Parc del Laberint. He had been there before while working a mission, his chance to take in the park’s beauty quickly cut short by a com-link call to head into the city. Now, though, he was able to fully enjoy it as they passed well-preserved pavilions and strolled past placid ornamental ponds. He could tell in the way Zenyatta’s head tilted to admire the lush greenery and in the way he observed the extensive hedge maze as it stretched and curved over the grounds that he was enjoying himself. Genji allowed himself a momentary smile as they continued their leisurely excursion through the park, the thoughts of their flight regulated to the recesses of his mind. 

 

Just as the hour of their departure drew closer a slow drizzle swept over the grounds. They managed to ignore it for several minutes, continuing to admire the fine old world architecture and neatly manicured shrubbery. But as the rain came down heavier they were finally forced to duck for cover under the roof of the pavilion, a finely worked statue of Danae standing in its center. They watched as the rain continued, rippling the waters of the pools and watering the greenery with a flurry of drops that left crystalline trails along the leaves. The sight of it all brought an innate joy and a calmness, that until recently, had been entirely foreign to him. He was seized with a strange sense of melancholy and a reluctance to leave. He wanted to stay there, trapped in that one serene moment, ignorant to the cares of the world, just the two of them. But his mind wouldn’t allow it. He was being dragged into a future that seemed to hold more obstacles than anything and where his duty to his brother, himself, and the world outweighed his reservations. Even so, he couldn’t help the tiny voice in the back of his mind that balked at the idea of having to be tied down to Overwatch all for the sake of his duties, but knew he was being needlessly foolish. They would not be there forever, once things were settled with the clan and he had found Hanzo they could go back to the way things were. Yet even knowing that, he still had his misgivings about going back. He slipped his hand in Zenyatta’s, leaning his head heavily on his shoulder with a wistful sigh “I don’t want to go”, he said feeling childish. 

 

Zenyatta put his arm around his shoulders “We will not be there indefinitely”, he answered softly. 

 

“I know”, he huffed “It’s going to be strange being back, though. Having to constantly be on watch for any kind of threat.” 

 

“I am sure that will not occupy all our time there.”

 

“It probably will, especially now”, he broke off for a moment. His eyes came to focus on Zenyatta, admiring his face, the broadness of his shoulders, his long limbs. “If it were up to me we wouldn’t have to concern ourselves with any of this. We would go somewhere, just you and I, get away from everything”, Genji said, a desperate fervor in his voice.

 

Zenyatta was silent for a moment, the hand that laid on his shoulder gently stroking down his arm. When he finally spoke it was with a soft firmness, “It is truly a tempting idea, but we have to at least put in an effort and attempt this. Though when we have finished our task I will gladly take you up on what you proposed”, Zenyatta said warmly. Genji gave a wistful chuckle before pulling him into a tight embrace as the rain continued to beat against the pavilion “It’s a date then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thank you all for the wonderful comments and kudos, they really brighten my day. Also, sorry it has taken me so long to get this chapter out. I would like to get these next couple of chapters out a little quicker but as of right now that seems unlikely so expect chapters to roll in within at least 3 weeks of each other. We’re getting closer to the end-game here we’ll be seeing Jesse as well as some other familiar faces next chapter. As always thank you so much for reading!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji and Zenyatta answer the recall and make it to the watchpoint. But their time is interrupted when Zenyatta gets assigned to a mission and Genji realizes he may once again have to take out the clan on his own.

Even after all this time Genji still had vivid memories of his first formal introduction to the other Overwatch agents. He had just barely weaned himself off the painkillers that reduced the unbearable distress of his mind attempting to adjust to this odd new body far more endurable. But left him feeling like he was slogging through some kind of barely recognizable reality and where his head felt like it was caught in a perpetual fog. Spurred on by the residual aches and pains of his anatomy and disheartened by what he deemed to be a cursed life he greeted the cheerful waves and cordial welcomes of the other agents with deadly silence and a snappish reply of “I’m leaving.” He quickly strode from the room fervently wishing he had the nerve to reveal the mass of twisted flesh and scars that now made up his face so they could all endure the full brunt of his scowl. Angela ran after him a second later, the sound of her heels drawing closer as he felt a cruel smile stretch across his face, only mildly perturbed by how tight his skin felt, but still elated to have someone to argue with. 

 

“Genji”, she called “You should at least try to be polite. You will be working with them after all”, she admonished as she quickly fell into step behind him. 

 

He could’ve run away, ignored her words altogether, but he was in the mood to be difficult. “Yes, but not by choice”, he answered gruffly. 

 

“I know it’s not ideal for-” 

 

“No, I don’t think that you do”, he spat out, cutting her off. “If you did you would have left me back in Hanamura.” 

 

He watched her cheeks color slightly, happy to have gotten that much of a reaction before she responded calmly, “I wasn’t going to simply leave you there to die.”

 

“So instead you made me a weapon for Overwatch?”, he asked, his voice pained.

 

“No. I saved your life”, she replied firmly. Genji was tempted to reply that he didn’t want this life he had been forced back to, that she should have let him die where he was instead of grafting what was left of his broken and mangled body to this tomb of metal and alloy. Instead, he said nothing as he retreated down the hallway leaving her standing there watching him. He had never had a chance to apologize to the team about that poor introduction. But as time had passed, as the vitriol slowly seemed to ebb away, as he made good on his promises to take out the clan he made a point to at least try to be friendly with his teammates. Eventually, he had even managed to form an amicable if not tenuous bond with Angela. A bond that was often strained by his obstinate rejection of her pleas to be more careful and an underlying pang of resentment. He wondered how she would react to his unannounced return, how would he fit into the team as he was now. He pondered on those questions as he and Zenyatta made their way up the beach towards the watchpoint. 

 

They had made it there fairly quickly, reluctantly leaving the park and speeding down the still soaked streets to the airport. They caught their flight with just barely a few minutes to spare and despite his reluctance and his brittle-voiced pleas to stay behind in Barcelona, to hide away from the inevitable conflict Genji had silently accepted his fate and had set his mind on fulfilling their goals. Promising himself that he wouldn’t continue to let his fear of the unknown set his path for him. With that thought in mind, they climbed the stairs that cut a narrow course through the rocks and he found himself admiring the view as they reached the top. He watched as the waves gently lapped against the rocks, as the gulls scurried along the shoreline after brilliantly blue crabs that shied and ducked under tangles of fluorescent seaweed. He inhaled deeply, marveling at the clean scent of the ocean, at the sound of the waves as they broke against the shore. Zenyatta stood close by him observing the view “It is beautiful”, he commented softly, his hand slipping into his own. 

 

“Yes, I could never really appreciate it before”, he answered feeling strangely wistful. “It’s nice to be back.”

 

“Yes”, Zenyatta agreed “It’s perhaps even more enjoyable without the threat of arrest”, he added with a chuckle as they made their way to the entrance. 

 

“Sure, but without that, it would have just been a dull trip to search through some files. You have to admit I did make things more interesting.” 

 

“Yes, we are certainly not lacking in excitement with you around”, Zenyatta answered with a laugh as they strode inside. Before they had the chance to wonder if they were the first to arrive they heard faint voices from down the hall. They followed the sounds of the frantic conversation only to hear a loud whoop that was accompanied a moment later by the exasperated voice of a woman. “I told you there was a better way to get those boxes down.” Genji froze, he recognized that voice it had admonished him countless times. They continued down the corridor and into the doorway of a large supply closet only to see Reinhardt bent over and covered in dust as he threw a number of old and broken laptops into a box. Beside him stood Angela clearly annoyed with dust in her hair and a broom in her hand as she watched him continue his task with a long-suffering look on her face. She looked up briefly to see them standing in the doorway her eyes suddenly gone wide “Genji?”, she asked. 

 

“Hello Angela”, Genji said, a little uncertainly.

 

“What's the matter, doctor?”, Reinhardt asked “You look like you’ve seen a ghost”, he said following her line of sight to where they were standing. Immediately he dropped the box he was holding, its contents falling back onto the floor to the quiet chiding of Angela before he had pulled him into a nearly bone-crushing embrace. “Genji my friend!”, he cried overjoyed “It is good to see you again! You had us all worried. We thought you might never return”, he exclaimed.

 

“It is good to see you too”, he said close to gasping. Reinhardt must have heard the discomfort in his voice because a second later he had set him back on his feet. He gave him a hearty pat on the back “Ah, you’re the same as ever. And who have you brought with you?”, he asked, turning to face Zenyatta.

 

“Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Zenyatta”, he said, coming forward with a slow bow of his head. 

 

“It’s nice to meet you”, Angela replied warmly “I’m Dr. Angela Ziegler, and this is Reinhardt.”

 

“It’s good to see some new faces”, Reinhardt said happily “Just stick by this old crusader and you’ll quickly learn the ropes”, he said with a boisterous laugh as he swept Zenyatta into a tight hug while Genji fretted that he might actually crush him.

 

“Must you crush everyone? I’m going to have my work cut out for me when I give everyone their physicals later”, Angela said with a put-upon sigh.

 

“My apologies doctor. I just want to make sure he feels that he’s welcome.”

 

“Of that, I have no doubts”, Zenyatta answered warmly as Genji put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “Thank you for your hospitality. It will be a pleasure to work with you both in the future.”

 

“Ah, the pleasure is all our’s my friend”, Reinhardt said amicably, patting Zenyatta on the back so hard he nearly stumbled as Angela looked on, shaking her head in dismay.

 

“Winston is in the lab down the hall you should let him know you’ve made it in safely”, Angela said, resuming her task of sweeping the floor.

 

“So he made it here too?”, Genji asked.

 

“He’s been here from the start”, Reinhardt answered. “He was the one who called us all back. I for one am glad for it! There are still many fights to be had, justice that needs to be done!”

 

“Rooms that need to be cleaned”, Angela said gesturing to the battered remains of the laptops that still littered the floor. Genji stifled a laugh as they both bid them a quick farewell and they began their walk down the hallway leaving them to their work. 

 

“It is nice to be so warmly welcomed”, Zenyatta said cheerfully. 

 

“Even that warmly?”, Genji asked, his tone teasing.

 

“It was unexpected but by no means unpleasant”, he replied pleasantly.

 

They found Winston amidst a collection of old hardware, his fingers swiping through countless screens on his tablet as Athena’s logo blinked in and out on the large computer behind him. “Oh, sorry I wasn’t expecting company. Oh Genji!”, he exclaimed looking up from his work “It’s good to see you. Glad you made it in. Uh, forgive the mess”, he said gesturing to the mass of old keyboards and gutted monitors that were stacked haphazardly around him. 

 

“It’s no problem Winston”, he said patting him lightly on the shoulder “I want you to meet my partner Zenyatta, he’s here to join up as well.”

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you”, Zenyatta said with a slight bow of his head. 

 

“Thanks, nice to meet you too. It’s always good to have more help. Though we won’t be starting any training for awhile, not until everyone makes it in of course. Besides, there’s a lot of clean-up that still needs to be done”, he said looking around him with a short sigh.

 

“Perhaps I could be of some assistance. I used to perform maintenance on these type of systems for a time”, Zenyatta offered. 

 

“Really? Well thanks that would be great”, he said and then began to explain the problems he was having with the systems of the watchpoint, his dialogue peppered with jargon that Genji couldn’t recognize or decipher. Zenyatta, on the other hand, seemed to easily understand what he was saying as he nodded his head several times and suggested a few solutions that Winston latched onto with enthusiasm. Genji left the two of them to their work with Zenyatta promising to meet him in his room later. He walked off down the hallway turning the corner until he was in front of his door and quickly entered his room laying his things out on the bed. He wondered idly, looking around if Zenyatta would be willing to share this cramped and dusty space with him. He looked to the bed which looked infinitely smaller when the notion of two people sleeping on it came to mind. But he had grown so used to sharing his space with Zenyatta, wrapping his body around him until they were so closely slotted together that he didn’t know where his body began and where Zenyatta’s body ended that the idea of not being in the same space with him seemed unbearable. He opened the windows wide, allowing the sharp clean scent of the sea to waft in as he began cleaning the dust off the shelves, arranging the books, and stacking the broken and chipped cups on his desk so he could go wash them later. He opened the small bag he had taken with him setting his few belongings out on the table spreading out his spare shuriken, the few crumpled bills he had saved, as well as the dog-eared and slightly torn photo of he and Hanzo. He set it on the desk carefully smoothing out the many creases with the tips of his fingers wishing he had left it in that battered frame to better preserve it. There were so many things to do he realized. As he sat there listening to the waves move and crash against the rocks he looked at the picture again focusing his attention on the scowling face of his brother. He felt a sudden pain of guilt looking at that face, the same face that a few months ago had been snarling at him with rage, a look of hopelessness in his eyes. That look which had prompted him to begin his fruitless search. His search which he had quickly given up without a second thought. Though he rationalized that the direness of the situation was reason enough for him to abandon the hunt he still couldn’t wave the feeling that he was putting it off. Perhaps he didn’t want to find him, too frightened of what he might do. 

 

He thought back to Zenyatta’s words, the unwavering conviction of that proclamation that had brought tears to his eyes. He desperately wanted to believe that he wouldn’t let Zenyatta down but he still had his doubts. He could have never predicted the conflicted feelings that froze him that night, those thoughts that had him swinging between nostalgia and irrepressible rage. He could only hope that when they met again that his need for retribution, his unbearable anger would easily burn out at the sight of his face. And that he could embrace him like he should have after the death of their father and speak with him like he could have done that night when their swords met. Maybe he could eventually come to forgive him. That thought left him breathless, only a short while ago he would have never even considered forgiveness a possibility. Now, though, despite everything that had happened between them there was a small part of him that hoped they would be able to reach a place where the two of them could be at peace with each other. He was all too aware that things could never go back to the way they used to be. Too much time had passed, too much blood had been spilled. But they could perhaps forge something new from the ashes of what they used to be, walk a new path together as their father had always wanted them to. 

 

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a gunshot. For a brief and terrifying moment, he was transported back to that cold night in King’s Row. He shook his head managing to calm himself down fairly quickly as he looked out the window to the shooting range. He saw a telltale flash of red slowly moving across the plateau and immediately he knew who it was. Within a few short minutes he was striding out onto the range, Jesse was there his back to him as he reloaded his gun. “Some things never change”, Genji remarked. 

 

Jesse turned around to face him a slow smile working its way over his features. “Well now, look who decided to show up. It’s good to see ‘ya finally”, he said bringing him into a tight hug. 

 

“Yes, it’s been too long”, Genji replied letting him go finally. 

 

“And who’s fault is that? I don’t recall anyone making you leave.” 

 

“I know, but I had to. I wasn’t going to find any peace of mind here.” 

 

“Looks to me like you’re bringing more than just that peace of mind with ‘ya.” 

 

“I don’t know what you mean”, Genji said, feigning innocence. 

 

“Yeah, you do.” 

 

“I don’t actually.” 

 

Jesse laughed, shaking his head. “You trying to tell me that monk you brought with you ain’t the guy you were telling me about?” 

 

“I don’t have to tell you everything.” 

 

“Sure never stopped you before. Besides why else would he be here?”

 

“Maybe he wanted to join Overwatch on his own.” 

 

“Naw, what’s the real reason?” 

 

“That is the real reason...well part of it”, he said with a grin. 

 

“I knew it”, Jesse answered with a smirk. 

 

“You don’t have to be so smug. It’s not like it’s that hard to tell.”

 

“You ain’t never lied. The way you were all hugged up with him by the door earlier.” 

 

“You were spying on us?”

 

“Ain’t really spying when you’re out in plain sight.”

 

“That’s what you say but this is all beginning to sound suspicious. How do I know you’re not trying to gather information so you can try to steal him away?”, he asked with a playful grin.

 

“Don’t think I could if I tried, he’s way out of my league. Hell, he’s out of your’s.” 

 

Genji tsked, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re perfectly suited for each other.”

 

“Not so sure about that. I overheard a little of what he was saying to Winston. That man is on some other level.” 

 

“I know”, Genji said, rather fondly. 

 

“Damn, you got it bad.” 

 

“Yes, but you already knew that.” 

 

“Didn’t know it was this bad, though”, Jesse said with a laugh as Genji elbowed him and they spent the next hour talking about other things. Genji told him of his time wandering through Bhutan, the short-lived confrontation with the assassin, and his first meeting with Zenyatta. He told him about their journey through India and the exquisite beauty of the temples. About the brief battle amidst the deluge, and the time he spent with Zenyatta in Nepal, careful to talk around the more tender moments for fear that he would be caught blushing. But he did tell Jesse about his confession though he painted it as more of a moment of smooth and appealing confidence rather than the desperate and impassioned whisper he had just managed to choke out as Zenyatta had held him. In turn, Jesse relayed his time in the desert, his daring but ultimately sloppy escape from the bounty hunters who had followed him in their truck for days, destroying his hideout and managing to shoot him in the leg before the chase was cut short as they got caught on the train tracks. Still bleeding from the wound in his leg and dehydrated from the chase he was left to romp back through the desert under the blistering heat and was finally able to catch the first available flight here. Jesse lit another cigarillo, letting the breeze catch the smoke as he leaned back to observe the seabirds overhead “Kinda surprised you came at all”, he admitted suddenly. “Not that I’m not happy you’re here, just wasn’t expecting it with the way things are.” 

 

Genji didn’t answer right away, instead, he watched as a large purple heron strode along the shore after a lone crab. “To tell the truth I didn’t want to come back”, he said finally. “I wanted to take him somewhere, try to ignore everything. But he and I both have things that we need to do and this seemed like the best way.”

 

Jesse as usual, didn’t press him for details of what those things were though he did inquire as to whether Zenyatta already knew about his habit of grinding his teeth or his excessive snoring. To which Genji assured him that he did and that even if he did snore it was still better than talking in his sleep. That remark earned him a quick elbow in the ribs which he followed with a playful jab to the stomach. There was a short exchange of playful blows which quickly ended as they saw Angela approaching. Genji conveniently fled just on the off chance that she had seen them and made his way back to his room. Zenyatta was already there, reading from one of his books “I see you tidied up”, he said with a short chuckle as Genji sat next to him, kissing him as if he hadn’t seen him in days. 

 

“Of course, if we’re going to share this room I thought I might as well clean up a bit.”

 

Zenyatta laughed lightly “A sentiment that has clearly changed since we left the monastery. Though I wasn’t sure if you were willing to share your space, as it is there’s not much of it.” 

 

“I don’t care”, Genji replied firmly “It’s worth it if I can keep sleeping next to you.” 

 

“I feel the same”, he said fondly, taking Genji’s hand. “I realize you had many reservations about returning here and perhaps even more about me accompanying you. But nevertheless, I’m glad that I’m here with you.”

 

“So am I”, he said, pulling him closer and kissing him along the seam of his faceplate, happy to have lost that argument back in Nepal. 

 

Tracer arrived the following morning, sporting a much more genuine smile than the last time he had seen her and carrying nothing more than an overstuffed backpack on her shoulder. She was followed closely by Symmetra who strode up the stairs to the watchpoint with a mild look of dismay at the state of things and a quiet shake of her head as she walked inside. Not long after Symmetra’s arrival, someone else appeared on the landing strip. It was a young woman accompanied by a small entourage of well-dressed men and women and a small band of engineers who attended to a large pink mech suit which they stored in one of the hangars. She greeted them all cheerfully, introducing herself as D.Va for all those who didn’t know and then airily proclaimed that she hoped the inside of the watchpoint was not nearly as disorderly as the outside. 

 

As if spurred on by those words Winston had them spend the rest of the day cleaning. Zenyatta split his time between helping Genji clean out several large supply closets and assisting Winston with maintenance on Athena’s systems. When he had left Tracer took his place, helping him to quickly clear out the dust and shoo away the moths that had congregated amongst the boxes and upturned furniture. They didn’t speak right away, Genji’s mind automatically going back to that night in King’s Row and her forced smile accompanied by unshed tears in her eyes as she left the police station. He was curious to know how she was doing but couldn’t bring himself to ask her about it. As if she had heard his thoughts she suddenly spoke. “I’m feeling a lot better about things you know”, she said as Genji looked up from the boxes he was stacking to consider her. “Not entirely, but my girlfriend’s been helping me out and it’s been slow going but progress is progress right?”, she said with a smile. 

 

“I know what you mean”, he answered,“But no one could blame you for what happened.” 

 

“Yeah, but I blamed myself”, she said with a small frown. “I was right there and I let her get away. I must’ve played that night over 100 times in my head trying to figure out where I went wrong.”

 

“I understand that feeling”, Genji admitted “But we both did the best we could. All we can do now is make sure that what happened that night won’t happen to anyone else.”

 

“Right”, Tracer replied firmly, a faint smile on her face as she went back to work. 

 

“Maybe one day we’ll both be able to forgive ourselves for how things turned out”, Genji thought, feeling strangely hopeful as he continued to stack boxes, the two of them working in amicable silence. 

 

Inexplicably, he and Zenyatta ended up on kitchen duty that night. When Angela saw the assignment, randomly generated by the computer, she made a face of dismayed embarrassment. But Genji waved it off. What he would have considered at one time to be some kind of tasteless cosmic joke, assigning the cyborg who didn’t need to eat to prepare the meal, now became a source of all too ironic humor. The two of them made their way into the kitchen and he looked through the cabinets and freezer for some spark of inspiration. Meanwhile, Zenyatta seemed to be a lost as to what to do, idling by the stove with his fingers gently rapping against the countertop. “What’s wrong?”, Genji asked. 

 

“Though I am well versed with the preparation of tea I am uncertain of how to proceed here.” 

 

“What? Really?” 

 

“Is that hard to believe?”, Zenyatta asked amicably. 

 

“Yes, it is actually”, Genji answered, “You seem to know everything.” 

 

“Ah, but appearing to know and actually having that knowledge are two different things. The world is full of so many experiences, knowable and unknowable alike, it’s impossible to possess extensive knowledge of it all.”

 

“Huh.” 

 

“What is it?” 

 

“It’s finally happened.” 

 

“What has?”, he asked sounding perplexed. 

 

“I’m better than you at something.” 

 

“You have proven to be adept at many things already, some of which I have no knowledge of. Besides I cannot be proficient in everything.” 

 

“You seem to have been so far.” 

 

“You flatter me Genji but there are still things that remain unknown to me even now. Cooking, for example, is one of them. If you’d be willing perhaps you can show me what you know?” 

 

“Of course”, Genji replied eagerly, still unsure what he was going to make though he had spotted some cuts of pork in the refrigerator that gave him an idea. He rummaged through the refrigerator grabbing the meat, an onion, ginger root, a bunch of somewhat limp scallions, a head of lettuce, and a bulb of garlic. He laid everything out on the counter and began to instruct Zenyatta on the proper method to chop the vegetables.

 

“I wasn’t aware you knew how to cook”, Zenyatta commented, carefully studying his movements as he chopped the lettuce at a leisurely pace.

 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me”, he answered teasingly as he proceeded to dramatically flip the knife in the air before easily catching it before it hit the countertop.

 

“I wish to know more.” 

 

“You know a lot about me already.” 

 

“But obviously not enough it would seem if something like this missed my gentle inquiries.”

 

“Well go ahead, ask me anything.” 

 

“You’re very knowledgeable, who taught you how to cook?”

 

“My mother. We had a chef but she said it was good for us to know how to cook for ourselves so we wouldn’t end up wasting all our money on ramen when we went off to university.” 

 

He thought about her briefly, standing with him in the kitchen with an apron tied around her slim waist. She had taught him all that she knew from mincing and preparing vegetables, to slicing slabs of meat paper thin. He had abandoned most of that knowledge when he realized he would no longer need to eat to survive. That like most things it had been regulated to an afterthought, some faint memory that was better left forgotten in favor of the erratic routes of his enemies and the trajectory of his plans. Now, though, it came flooding back to him as he and Zenyatta fell into a steady rhythm. Genji sliced the pork while Zenyatta grated the onion and ginger, easily working around each other as they needed to. Zenyatta took to his tasks quickly though he did inquire as to what would be the best way to cut the scallions. Genji took the opportunity to show him by coming behind him, his body nearly pressed against his back as he guided his hands to the proper spots so that he could mince the scallions.

 

“I was unaware that you preferred hands-on teaching methods”, Zenyatta remarked with a chuckle at their closeness. 

 

“I’m just showing you the best way to do it”, Genji replied, not entirely truthfully.

 

“I have no doubts of that, but I do wonder if it requires us to be this close.” 

 

Genji, knowing full well that he was being too easily distracted, that he was abandoning his original goal of teaching Zenyatta how to cook and that in their current location they could be discovered at any moment managed to completely push those thoughts aside in favor of placing his hands on Zenyatta’s hips with a gentle sigh. 

 

“I could get closer”, he said in a low tone, pressing himself a little more firmly against his partner's back. 

 

“Any closer and I fear we won't get much work done.” 

 

“It would be worth it.” 

 

“And let our friends and allies go hungry? I’m not certain of that.” 

 

“I can multitask”, Genji assured him. Zenyatta placed the knife quietly on the cutting board as Genji’s mouth had found a sensitive spot on the back of his neck. 

 

“I’m not sure this an appropriate place to do this.” 

 

“It’s not.” 

 

“This seems unwise.” 

 

“It is”, Genji agreed. 

 

“And yet you continue?”, Zenyatta inquired with a breathless laugh.

 

“I never said I was wise”, Genji answered one hand straying from his hip and under his robes to a sensor he had found along the side of his torso and tweaked it lightly. 

 

“I fear we are getting distracted”, Zenyatta replied but had moved his head so that Genji could kiss him. 

 

He did so before answering “We can always get back on track later”, and proceeded to move his hand down the length of his leg. He felt Zenyatta jolt, not from the contact but from surprise as he heard the familiar sound of spurs enter the room. They quickly pulled away from each other as Jesse, who seemed to not have noticed them, whistled some whimsical tune as he strolled over to the fridge and removed a water bottle. He took a quick swig before asking “So what’s on the menu tonight fellas? Besides the PDA.” 

 

Genji felt his face grow hot as Zenyatta, his tone somehow not at all affected by what had just taken place, answered that they were having ginger pork with rice and salad. Quickly the two of them struck up a conversation that was thankfully not about what had just nearly taken place mere inches from their food and Genji resumed mincing the scallions before setting the rice to cook. Promising himself with a neatly repressed surge of frustration that Jesse would receive the smallest portion. 

 

After a loud but amiable dinner, everyone thanked the two of them for the meal as they shuffled out of the mess hall. Save for Jesse who gave Genji a knowing smile as he placed his plate in the sink amongst the others. “Thanks for the food”, he told him as Genji stood there scrubbing the plates and utensils with an overzealous drive and water so hot that his visor began to fog up. “Portion could have been a bit bigger, though”, he said. 

 

Genji continued to ignore him until he had begun to wash the grater and pan. “When I was a kid I used to get smaller portions when I had done something wrong”, he stated finally. 

 

“Is that right?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Can’t blame me because I walked in on you two about to do it in the kitchen.” 

 

Had he had less control Genji would have stuttered in embarrassment. Instead, he merely gave Jesse a look, hand on his hip before replying “We were not about to do it in the kitchen.” 

 

“Sure looked ready to.” 

 

“Well, you saw wrong. And even if we were you ruined the mood”, he said accusingly. 

 

Jesse snorted, bumping his hip in good humor “You gonna hold it over my head forever?” 

 

“Maybe not forever but at least until the next week.” 

 

“Damn. Guess I’ll have to be getting my food elsewhere then.” 

 

Genji heard his stomach’s loud growling and finally relented “There are some leftovers in the fridge.” 

 

“Much obliged”, he said removing a plastic container from the second shelf and setting it in the old but still functioning microwave. “Kinda nice to see it, though”, he remarked as he quickly set the timer. 

 

“What? That the microwave still works?” 

 

“Naw, that you’re that comfortable with someone.” 

 

“Is it?”, Genji asked, a lecherous grin on his face. 

 

“Yeah. Not that I want to keep walking on you two getting all hot and heavy over our food”, he said, dodging as Genji swatted at him with the dish towel. “Seriously, though never thought you’d be that comfortable with anyone the way you were a while back.” 

 

Genji considered his words, thinking back to their short affair. “Neither would I”, he answered. “Are you sad about what you missed out on?”, he asked smugly.

 

Jesse laughed “Naw, never had much of a thing for getting caught in the act”, he said. Once again he dodged a well-placed kick to the shin as he quickly took his food and ran for the door. Genji followed after him the dishes all but forgotten.

 

He arrived in the room later, hands slightly tired from what the task of dishwashing and in good spirits after an impromptu sparring match down the hallway, much to the dismay of Angela and Symmetra. Zenyatta arrived mere moments after him just as he was beginning to open the windows of the room. “Ah Genji, it is good to see you as always”, he said, kissing him on the cheek. “Forgive me for not assisting you with the dishes, but Winston requested my help with something.” 

 

“It’s ok, you helped me do the cooking.” 

 

“I didn’t do much.” 

 

“Yes, you did. You were very helpful.” 

 

“It seemed I proved to be more of a distraction than anything”, Zenyatta said with a chuckle. 

 

“You can’t blame yourself for that.”

 

“I suppose not considering that you were the one unable to keep focus.” 

 

“You should take _some_ of the blame.”

 

“Perhaps, but how can the pupil walk the proper path if his mentor refuses to stay on the road.” 

 

“Are you saying I’m a bad teacher?”

 

“No, just that we nearly didn’t prepare dinner.”

 

“It would have been worth it.”

 

“I’m certain another opportunity will present itself.”

 

“We would have our chance tonight if Jesse hadn’t interrupted.”

 

“I see you’re still displeased with him even after you already spited him earlier”, Zenyatta said with a short chuckle.

 

“I didn’t spite him”, Genji protested. 

 

“Forgive me for accusing you of such a thing but I did see the minuscule portion you gave him.” 

 

“It wasn’t that small.” 

 

“You gave him a shred of pork and a teaspoon of rice. It quickly became obvious that he was being punished for something.” 

 

“He would have eaten better if he would have just minded his own business.”

 

“You can hardly blame him for coming in at an inopportune time.” 

 

“I can and I will”, he replied, petulant. 

 

“Come now, I know you are more than capable of being forgiving.”

 

“I’m not really.” 

 

“I have yet to see any evidence of that.”

 

“What about what happened tonight at dinner?”

 

“I cannot base such a decision on simply one instance.”

 

Genji laid down on the bed with a sigh, his eyes turned up to the gentle glow of the ceiling lights, his thoughts suddenly on Hanzo’s current whereabouts. 

 

“Do you think my brother and I can reconcile our differences?”, he asked suddenly. Zenyatta didn’t answer right away so he decided to elaborate. “I’ve been thinking about it lately. If he and I can ever get back some of what we had when we were younger. I know things can never be how they used to, but I’d like to eventually forgive him for what happened.” 

 

Zenyatta considered his words, he lied down next to him his head resting on his chest, his hand on his stomach. “I am certain that you will be able to, though it will take time. You’ve both endured much and are very different people than when you began. Reaching a place of amiability will take work from you both but it is by no means impossible.” 

 

“I hope so”, Genji said, kissing him on the side of his face, content to stay like that till morning.

 

Several days later Pharah arrived, closely followed by a slow moving storm and the distant clap of thunder. With several more agents still missing Winston continued to halt any official activities instead, he devoted his time to making sure Athena’s systems were running smoothly. Finally, after a great deal of work, he and Zenyatta had everything functioning better than before they had been forced to leave. With the AI back in place and official business still on hold, it made for a great deal of leisure time which Genji took full advantage of. Though there was still the occasional chore to be taken care of and some of the rooms still required a thorough cleaning they spent much of their time uninterrupted. They even managed to take some time to spar together. An activity that Genji hadn’t realized he had missed so dearly until they were walking out onto the unoccupied plateau of the shooting range, the ground still damp from the recent rains. Their time together had only seemed to enhance their encounters. What were once simple holds and evasion became grand displays of agility and strength. Zenyatta would hurl several orbs, all of which Genji would deflect back at him as he managed to slip and dive out of the way before they could connect. They stayed like that for many hours, nimbly dodging and darting around each other in a kind of meditative dance that only ended when Genji finally found himself winded and collapsed to the ground with a tired but elated laugh. Just as they were about to retreat inside Symmetra walked by and asked to speak with Zenyatta. Realizing he couldn’t possibly monopolize all of his partner’s time he gave him a quick kiss as he slipped away and the pair walked off in the opposite direction. He walked back inside, quickly steering himself away from his room and wandered off in search of something to do with himself. Within a few minutes, he inexplicably found himself by the door of the med bay. 

 

He had done a good job of avoiding it until now. That immaculate space where he had spent far too much of his time, most of it angrily whispering obscenities under his breath as he tried to endure his pain and slowly adjust to what he had become. That was perhaps the most compelling reason for him to keep his distance, but also due to the fact that he had no idea how to speak to Angela again. They had shared that first cordial greeting in the supply room and had had several terse but cheerful exchanges since then, but nothing that could easily qualify for a conversation. Though he was thankful now for what she had done for him he still couldn’t shake the remainder of his guilt for all the grief he had given her back then. And the premature nature of his exodus only seemed to add to the strange and awkward tension that had permeated their meetings thus far. He had even ignored the text she had sent everyone the other day about scheduling time for a physical exam because of those pervasive bad memories and the awareness that their time together, especially in that sterile space, had always been strained. Nevertheless, he found himself shuffling inside, Angela was already there arranging a box of med packs when she noticed him standing in the doorway. 

 

“Genji, what brings you here?”, she asked, sounding puzzled.

 

“I thought I would come in for that exam. If you’re not busy”, he answered, more than a little hesitant.

 

“Well, you’ve just caught me at a good moment. If you would take a seat over on the table I’ll get right to you in a moment”, she said setting the box aside as Genji walked over to the examination table and sat down. She turned to a drawer and quickly pulled on a pair of gloves while Genji tapped his fingers against his knee, unable to keep his thoughts in the present. It wasn’t so long ago that he would have never willingly come here. After his surgery, their meetings had been long and painful affairs, punctuated by his angry protests and her quiet but firm prodding. She had spent long hours that way, examining and inspecting her handiwork. Checking his flexibility, the rhythms of his heart, the delicate cybernetics that now took up most of his body. He had hated her back then, defaming her skills and trading insults for encouragement whenever he could. He only acquiesced to her frequent summons because his pain was so severe and for a short time he had lived off the painkillers she prescribed going through several bottles throughout the course of a week. Until finally his brain reconciled itself to this strange new vessel. But his soul, his very being had taken far longer. She had offered him peace and stability in the body, but not in the mind nor the spirit. That was something he had only found through his time with Zenyatta, that peace of mind, the delicate balance between body and soul, the firm and wonderful realization that he was whole just as he was. Angela remained silent, leaving him to his thoughts as she began to look over the function of his arms and observe the cooling vents that lined his shoulders. Only when she made him stand up so she could examine the column of his spine and the lines of circuitry underneath did she finally speak. “It’s a little surreal”, she remarked. 

 

“What is?”

 

“Being back here. It feels like old times.” 

 

“If it really was like old times I would have insulted you at least 10 times by now.” 

 

She laughed lightly shaking her head. “That’s true, I can’t say I miss that part.” 

 

Genji nodded, ”I never really did apologize for how I was back then”, he said slowly “You were only trying to help me and-” 

 

“There’s no need for apologies”, she said firmly, cutting him off. “After you left I spent a lot of time thinking about what you said. I don’t think I was wrong to save you. But I understand that coming back from a near-death experience only to see your body completely changed would be difficult. I should have done more to mitigate that shock, to help you through the transition. For that, I am truly sorry.” 

 

Genji was struck with the force of that confession, at one time he would have relished those words. Asked her spitefully to repeat it, reveled in her admission that she was wrong, gloated, and used it to mock her. But now, he wasn’t sure what to feel. The silence stretched out for long minutes before he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thank you Angela”, he said finally, his tone sincere. “But it’s alright now. Even though there are still times where I wonder why things had to happen this way, I’m not the hateful person I used to be.”

 

“I see that. You seem like you’re much more at peace with yourself.” 

 

“Yes, but it took a long time to get to this point.”

 

She nodded “Where did you go after you left? You had us all wondering, Jesse seemed to want to chase after you.” 

 

“I wandered aimlessly for a long time, trying to make sense of everything. I didn’t make much progress and I made even less when I came across one of the clan’s assassins. He chased me for days until I was finally able to defeat him with Zenyatta’s help.” He let his mind linger on that first fateful encounter for a moment before continuing his tone now fond. “I followed Zenyatta through India, originally because I had nothing else to do with myself. When we first began our travels together I ignored what he was trying to tell me. But as time went on I began to see the truth in his words; that even though my appearance had changed I hadn’t. That I was whole just as I am now. It’s taken me a long time to accept that but these past few months I’ve finally been able to do it.” 

 

“I’m glad for you Genji”, she said with a soft smile. “I should thank him for taking such good care of you.” 

 

“You can try, but he barely accepts my thanks. He’s almost too kind sometimes”, he said with a kind of adoring sigh.

 

“Jesse was right, you are terribly smitten aren’t you?”, she said with a hint of an impish smile. 

 

“He should mind his own business”, Genji replied haughtily.

 

“It’s not as if it’s hard to notice.”

 

Genji huffed “Everyone seems far too interested in my love life”, he said ruefully. 

 

“I think we’re all just glad to see you so happy.” 

 

“Or there’s nothing better to do than spy on me.” 

 

She laughed “Don’t worry, I’m sure once everyone arrives and we resume training there will be less gossip around the base.” 

 

“Or more”, Genji thought, stifling a laugh as he leaned back and Angela resumed her work. 

 

Over the course of the next few days, he and Zenyatta had easily lapsed into a steady and predictable rhythm so much so that when Genji looked at his phone to see that Zenyatta had been assigned to a mission without him it left him completely floored. He managed to shake off the initial shock as he tore off in the direction of his room and burst through the door in the hopes that Zenyatta was already there. Thankfully he was. Zenyatta was stacking several new books on their joint shelf when he turned to see Genji, shaking with anxiety by the door. 

 

“Just what I was afraid of has finally happened”, Genji declared, striding into the room and tossing his phone on the desk before taking a seat. Zenyatta abandoned his place by the shelves and joined him on the bed. 

 

“What has?”, he asked, placing his hand on his shoulder. 

 

“You’re assigned for a mission in 3 days without me”, Genji replied, his tone frustrated. 

 

“Ah, I do remember Winston mentioning something about a mission. But I was unsure if he was actually going to assign me or not.”

 

“Why is he even assigning missions now? I thought he had put a hold on official activities until all the agents arrived.”

 

“He did but he received a request from the UN several days ago that we send several agents over to King’s Row to take on a kind of intermediary role between the omnics and humans there.” 

 

“So they want to put you right in the middle of an already heated conflict?”

 

“There has yet to be any fighting but they want to be certain that there won’t be.”

 

“I still don’t see why you have to go.”

 

“They thought it would be beneficial to have a member of the Shambali amongst the group to help quell the anger of the omnic population.”

 

“Their justified anger.”

 

“Whether it is justified or not further violence will not put an end to the suffering on either side. Only when they are able to reach an understanding and find the commonality between them will they be able to finally live together peacefully.”

 

“I still don’t like it. How do they know Talon isn’t planning something? They could be lying in wait just like they were before.”

 

“They described it as more of a covert affair. Though we will be speaking to several officials from both sides it has not been well publicized and they have significantly upped security. I am positive between their own guards and the other agents we will be able to have a safe journey.” 

 

Genji sighed, still not entirely convinced. “I knew this would happen”, he said quietly seething, caught between the extremes of fear and a resigned sense of frustration. 

 

Zenyatta seemed to sense his agitation because he pulled him into an embrace a moment later, his fingers stroking along the lines and seams of his helm. “All will go well”, he said soothingly. 

 

“It would be even better if I was there with you.” 

 

“There is no denying that. But as much as I would enjoy your company this is a task where it seems we must be apart. Though thankfully it is only for a short time.” 

 

“I know”, Genji huffed.

 

“I have faith in my abilities as well as those of our teammates. I am certain that we will keep each other safe”, he said, kissing the top of his head. 

 

Genji sighed again. He had known this was a possibility, though he had hoped that he would be able to handle it better. “Just stay safe”, he said finally “I don’t want to hear that you did anything crazy in the debriefing.” 

 

“Of course, and I hope you will show me the same courtesy.” 

 

“I won’t be going on any missions.” 

 

“That seems to matter little with you. I don’t want to return only to find you in the med bay because you were attempting some daring feat whilst you were training.”

 

“I’m not sure if you know this but I am capable of behaving myself”, Genji said with a wave of his hand. 

 

“I have no doubts of that though sadly I have seen very little evidence of it thus far”, Zenyatta replied teasingly. 

 

“You must not be looking hard enough then.”

 

“Or there simply are not enough examples to reference.”

 

“What about that time in the kitchen? I could have kept going but I pulled away. If that had been me when I was younger I would have taken you right on that counter.” 

 

“Truly, it was a thrilling location, but I imagine we would have most likely frightened off most of our compatriots as well as ruined the meal.” 

 

“We could have gotten take-out”, he said with a grin as his hand slipped underneath his robes to slide along his back. 

 

“I’m sad to say you are not proving your point”, Zenyatta replied but made no moves to stop him as he slid his hand along Genji’s thigh.

 

“I could if I wanted to”, Genji replied. Zenyatta didn’t answer he merely gave a low chuckle before kissing the side of his neck. 

 

Without even realizing it the next three days, bridled with the monotony of routine and their usual conversations that went for long hours into the night, seemed to pass so quickly that he barely had time to look up before he noticed that it was the night before Zenyatta was supposed to leave. A fact he didn’t catch onto until he saw him in their room folding his robes with an almost clinical precision before placing them in a small weathered bag. He didn’t allow himself to be dismayed with how quickly the time had passed instead he simply kissed him on the side of his face before helping him finish his packing. They worked in a comfortable silence for the next 10 minutes before Zenyatta set the bag on the desk and turned to kiss him. Genji kissed him back, though that did little to halt the abrupt swell of passion that came over him as Zenyatta’s hands spanned the length of his back. They broke apart for a moment as Zenyatta turned his back to him seemingly remembering something he had forgotten to pack. He took the opportunity to take him in his arms, overcome with desire. Zenyatta turned his head to look at him then “It seems that you’re eager to finish what we started several days ago”, he remarked with a low chuckle as Genji placed his hands on his shoulders, running them down his chest and coming to rest on his hips. “Can you blame me?”, he asked, his hands finding their way inside his robes as he kissed his shoulder. 

 

“Not at all”, Zenyatta answered sighing as he kissed his neck. Genji continued, his hand rubbing down the length of his leg, the other finding that same node by his hip and massaging it with deft fingers. Zenyatta sighed again he turned his head so he could kiss him. Genji kissed him back as he fumbled with the sash at Zenyatta’s waist. Zenyatta chuckled as he quickly undid it for him and it fell to the floor. He eagerly pulled off his robes still entranced with the long clean angles of his body and the intricacy of his design. He pressed against his back feeling along his hip, his fingers working over those nodes and other sensitive areas of his anatomy. At one point Zenyatta's knees seemed close to buckling, he held him up continuing to kiss him until he could feel as well as hear the vibration of his moan in his mouth. Zenyatta sighed contented as he turned to kiss him again. Genji clutched the back of his head, breaking apart only to allow his mouth to roam down his chest, his stomach until he was on his knees and his tongue had found that same area that he had worked not moments before. Zenyatta’s hands stroked through his hair, gently massaging his scalp cradling his head, and stroking along the shells of his ears. Genji was beside himself, achingly aroused and he hadn’t even been touched yet. Before long Zenyatta had loosed yet another moan, slightly louder this time as Genji managed to bring him off with just his tongue. Zenyatta gently pulled him onto the bed moments later, apparently eager to continue. 

 

Genji didn’t dare disagree as he stretched himself out on the bed and Zenyatta hovered nearby, considering him. He kissed him once allowing Genji to feel along his back for any sensitive spots he could find. He sighed before slowly pulling away, and proceeded to kiss a trail down his body before releasing him with a gentle sigh and a turn of the valve at his hip, his fingers working him at a languid pace. Genji let himself be saturated with a feeling of slow building pleasure, reveling in it as he kissed the side of his neck. His fingers massaging a line down his spine, gently curling in between exposed wires. Until he was forced to abandon the pursuit of the sensitive areas placed along his back to clutch at his shoulders as he buried his face in his neck as he came with muffled cry that left him breathless but still not fully satisfied. He quickly recovered and went back to massaging along his partner’s back, until he was arching off the bed. Letting loose a string of breathy sighs that slowly culminated into one long drawn out moan. Genji wasted no time in gathering him up in his arms, “We need to do this more often”, he declared, kissing the side of his face. 

 

“It would seem that you are eager to start on that promise right now”, he said with a fond laugh, as Genji continued kissing him at a feverish pace. 

 

“I can’t help it”, he breathed, trying to calm himself down as Zenyatta nuzzled closer into his embrace.

 

“I feel as though I should attempt to stop you, but I find I am not inclined to at the moment”, he said with a short laugh. 

 

“Good”, Genji answered, continuing to kiss him until fatigue finally set in and he drifted off to sleep with Zenyatta still in his arms. 

 

The following morning Genji woke to see Zenyatta silently dressing, his back turned to him as he pulled on his robes. Had this been any other morning he would have laid there simply enjoying the view but he knew Zenyatta would have to be leaving soon so he reluctantly rolled out of bed and picked his sash off the floor. He threw it over him, bringing it around his waist from behind, which only made him jolt slightly before he kissed him once on the neck. “What time do you have to leave?”, he asked before kissing him again. “In the next hour”, Zenyatta replied, turning so that he could kiss him back. 

 

“I wish you didn’t have to go.”

 

“I am aware”, he said fondly “But I will be back in 5 days time.”

 

“That’s going to feel like an eternity.”

 

Zenyatta gave a deep chuckle that sent a momentary shudder down his spine,“Thankfully it isn’t”, he replied simply as he kissed him again. 

 

Before Genji had time to fully contemplate what the following days would be like without Zenyatta’s presence at his side it was already time for him to depart. After several more kisses, each more intensely passionate than the last, the two of them strode out onto the landing strip. Jesse, Reinhardt, and Pharah were already there waiting for him, their few belongings already neatly stowed away on board a large and relatively new transport. As the three of them saw their approach Reinhardt and Pharah ducked inside as Jesse took a long drag from his cigarillo before letting it drop to the ground where he crushed it under his boot. Pharah returned a second later, standing in the doorway gazing at her tablet as she called “Systems at full we’re ready to go-”, she cut herself off as she looked up to see that Genji had pulled Zenyatta into a tight embrace and was kissing him with a passionate desperation that verged on being scandalous. “Zenyatta”, she called, a smile ghosting her lips “We should be going.” They broke apart a moment later to the sound of Jesse’s impressed whistle as Genji gave him his final verbal farewell. Zenyatta answered with his own and a lingering touch on the side of his face, that left Genji wanting to pull him back into another kiss before he boarded the transport. Jesse sidled up next to him a moment later with a wide smirk on his face. He watched Genji’s eyes follow Zenyatta into the transport with an unrestrained longing that was so pervasive he could tell it in every tense movement of his body and in the long sigh he gave as he finally moved out of sight. 

 

Jesse whistled again, long and low before he spoke. “Looked like you were aiming to suck out the man’s soul the way you were going at it.”

 

“I can’t help it”, Genji answered with a short shrug. He turned, finally giving Jesse his undivided attention. “I want you to watch his back for me. Since I can’t be there you’re the next best person to do it.”

 

“That’s mighty fine of you to say, but don't you think he can take care of himself?”

 

“I know he can but if there’s a moment where he can’t I want you to be there”, he replied firmly. 

 

Jesse nearly looked taken aback by his words, as if he had never expected someone to have that much faith in him. Considering some of the stories he had told to him all those nights sitting under the waxing moon he probably didn’t. He gave him a solemn nod and clapped him hard on the shoulder. “I got you covered”, he said simply before giving him a grin and proceeded to board the transport. Genji watched as it quickly ascended into the air, gradually becoming nothing more than a gleaming pinprick amidst the clouds and he could already feel the painful longing that he knew his absence would bring. He attempted to shake it off as he walked off in the direction of the shooting range, determined to not to succumb to that mounting dejection as he pulled out his shuriken. 

 

The rest of the day quickly became a lesson in futility. Without Zenyatta by his side, he grew increasingly restless, unable to focus on what he was doing, and eventually he found himself wandering aimlessly through the base. Shuffling from place to place, caught in a despondent daze until he found himself in the rec room. D.Va and Symmetra were already there, D.Va was lounging on the floor amidst a pile of blankets and colorful pillows playing a retro looking fighting game. Symmetra was situated on the couch behind her reading from a well-worn book. He didn’t say anything, he merely strode into the room and sat down on the couch. Symmetra gave him an appraising look before returning to her reading “I am surprised to see you here”, she said.

 

“I’ve been busy”, he replied simply.

 

“Is that the real reason?”, D.Va asked suddenly, still intently watching the screen as her character drop kicked her opponent.

 

“Of course it is.”

 

“I don’t know, Zenyatta leaves and then you just pop up here. Seems pretty suspicious to me.” When he didn’t respond right away she shot him a knowing smile over her shoulder. “I knew it”, she proclaimed proudly “I get it though, he is pretty fun to be around.” 

 

“I agree”, Symmetra said, “He is excellent company.” 

 

Genji wasn’t sure how to respond, he merely gave them an awkward nod before they both turned back to what they were doing. “You wanna play a round?”, D.Va asked abruptly, gesturing to the unused controller on the floor next to her. Genji considered it briefly before joining her on the rug a moment later. 

 

After several unsuccessful bouts, he quickly realized why D.Va held so many of the top rankings on the online leaderboards. Every move he made seemed to be out thought and easily intercepted until he wasn’t sure he even had a chance of winning. After a few more embarrassing losses he finally managed to win one round. She congratulated him with a heartfelt whoop and a pat on the back before they continued to play several more rounds until his fingers began to ache and his legs started to cramp. 

 

“You’re pretty good, even if you did move spam through most of the rounds”, she said with a laugh as they retired to the couch. Symmetra had not moved once from her spot, fully engrossed in her reading, but she did give the occasional demure clap of approval when a bout was won.

 

“I think you let me win that last round”, Genji said amiably. 

 

“What? No way! I always give it everything I have”, she said, “I wouldn’t let you win even if you weren’t sad about your boyfriend being gone.” 

 

“Why did you have to remind me?”, Genji groaned “I’m not sure I can go on”, he said dramatically, leaning heavily on her shoulder. 

 

She laughed as she pushed him off. “You’ll be fine. He’ll be back in a couple days”, she said as he situated himself back on the couch. 

 

“I know it”, he said, “But that hasn’t stopped me from worrying about him.” D.Va nodded before picking up the remote and clicking through the channels. Quickly bypassing several stations that were airing romance films and passing through one very colorful telenovela. 

 

Later that night Genji laid in bed for a long time fiddling with his phone, wondering if it would be too clingy to text Zenyatta considering he hadn’t even been gone a day. After several minutes of contemplation, he realized he didn’t care and that had certainly never stopped him before and texted him a simple message that read _I miss you_. There was a prolonged pause before the reply came in. 

 

_It is good to hear from you Genji. I miss you as well._

 

He smiled at the simple response, imagining that same low modulated voice reciting the words as if he were here with him. _It’s good to hear from you too. I just wish you were here._

_We are in agreement then. I also have to admit it is not the same without you by my side. The bed seems rather empty._

_I know. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get to sleep tonight._

_You seemed to be able to all those weeks we spent traveling together through India and Nepal._

_Yes but that was before. I didn’t know what I was missing out on._

_I am certain that you will manage. I will not be gone for very long._

_I know but it’s the not the same sleeping alone._

_A sentiment we both share. I will certainly miss waking up in your embrace._

_Yeah?_

_Yes of course._

_What else will you miss?_

_I could list quite a few things._

_Ok just name a couple then._

_The gentle sound of your breathing. Kissing you goodnight._

_Yeah, I’m going to miss that too. Or being able to hold you in my arms and run my hands down your body._

_Understandable. I miss that as well._

_Hey, Zenyatta. What are you doing right now?_

_Besides messaging you?_

_Yes._

_Nothing._

_Is anyone else around right now?_

_Genji. Just what are you suggesting?_

_Nothing. Just an innocent phone call._

_I have reason to believe that your intentions are anything but innocent. Though it is tempting. But I am currently surrounded by McCree as well as Pharah and I doubt they’d be interested to hear such a thing._

_Dammit._

_Don’t worry. We will have time for such things when I return._

_True but it’s going to be torture to have to wait._

_I am certain you will be able to hold on._

_I’m not so sure._

_If you find that it becomes too much to bear then please do as you must._

_Are you giving me permission to do it myself?_

_As you’ve shown me you hardly need my permission for such things._

_I’d still like to hear you say it, though._

_By all means, Genji do as you need to._

_Can’t you be more direct than that?_

_I suppose I could be._

_Ugh. Are you teasing me on purpose?_

_Not entirely._

_Ah, so you admit it!_

_Forgive my poor choice of words dear one. But honestly, there is no reason for you to be feeling such pressure. Feel free to satisfy your urges until I am able to return to you._

_It’s not what I was hoping for but I guess I’ll take it._

_I’m thankful I have such a gracious partner._

_You owe me when you get back, though._

_I am assuming you are not speaking in terms of material gain._

_No. I want what we had the night before you left._

_I had assumed so. Then by all means, I would be more than happy to alleviate this debt when I return. Though it seems I will have to speak to you later Genji as it’s getting late and we have several early morning meetings to attend._

_Ok then. Goodnight._

_Goodnight Genji. May you have a peaceful rest._ Genji smiled at the message before turning his phone off and tossing it to the other side of the bed. Still not entirely sure how he was going to be able to sleep at all without him by his side.

 

The following morning he received the call for a meeting just as he was planning to meditate. He had been up for most of the night unable to sleep without the gentle sound of Zenyatta’s hardware steadily whirring next to him and had spent most of his time reading in an attempt to take his mind off him. He was almost thankful for the distraction as he quickly answered the message washed his face with a warm washcloth and made his way to the lab. Winston was there sitting at his desk looking over his tablet as Angela stood nearby swiping through several screens on the larger computer behind him. D.Va and Symmetra filed in a moment later followed closely by Tracer. 

 

“Glad you all could make it”, Winston said, looking back to his tablet. “We’ve received some reports regarding unrest amongst the omnic populations. Not only from the usual spots but also from locations with more peaceful reputations.” 

 

“You can’t really blame ‘em”, Tracer said, “Not after what happened to Mondatta.” 

 

“That’s true”, Winston replied “But lately their uprisings have been more frequent and seem to be escalating in violence. It’s got everyone on edge and they’ve even been receiving top tier firearms from some unknown sources, possibly black market.” 

 

“I had thought Overwatch had shut down most if not all of the black market trading rings”, Symmetra said with a slight frown. 

 

“We were able to get rid of most of them but when we were disbanded they must have taken the chance to regroup”, Angela answered, looking concerned. 

 

“The clan used to do some illegal arms trading. If I could see some of these firearms I could probably tell you which group is supplying them”, Genji said.

 

“Oh, right”, Winston said swiping several screens away on his tablet and producing an enlarged image of an omnic not too different from Zenyatta’s build holding a small gun. It was an older model, matte black with three large jagged scratches that ran parallel along the side. Genji’s eyes went wide and suddenly the alliance between the clan and Talon made far more sense. “Winston do you have any more photos like this?”, he asked, his voice slightly shaken. 

 

“Sure, you see something familiar?”, he inquired as he gestured for Genji to swipe through the set of images. He did so with shaking fingers, only to see more photos of people and omnics alike holding weaponry that at one time he had remembered seeing stashed away in his father’s study, hidden behind boxes of books and the old cracked remains of an aquarium. Each item scratched for the grade of the weapon, the scrapes made to resemble the claw marks of the dragons. He handed the tablet back to Winston, his face grim. 

 

“You alright there?”, Tracer inquired. 

 

“Yes”, he answered firmly “Those people and omnics are receiving their weapons from the clan.” 

 

“I thought they were forced to disband several years ago”, Symmetra said. 

 

“That’s what we thought”, Winston stated. “But they were still being monitored even after their group was dissolved. We had noticed some suspicious activity in some of the abandoned omniums around the Ryukyu Islands that we thought might be linked to them.” 

 

“It was”, Genji answered, “Zenyatta and I visited an old omnium on Amami and we found information there detailing the hit that had been taken out on Mondatta.” 

 

“So that’s why you were there in King’s Row then”, Tracer said quietly. 

 

He nodded, slightly annoyed with himself that he hadn’t told any of them sooner. “Talon is working with the newly reformed clan. They’re even using stolen Vishkar omnics as guards back at the castle.” 

 

“Are you certain of that?”, Symmetra asked her tone hinting at dismayed urgency.

 

“Yes, I saw them the last time I was there. They even had detailed protocols for gutting their AI back at the omnium.” 

 

Symmetra frowned, her eyes turning to the floor as if she were contemplating leaving the room. “So what’s the plan?”, D.Va asked, “Shouldn’t we start gathering some info so we can shut down their trading circles?” 

 

“Unfortunately we can’t do much right now”, Angela said, a tight frown on her face. 

 

“What? Why not?”, Genji asked, baffled. 

 

“The UN is watching us pretty closely right now. If we want to take anything on we have to clear it with them first”, Winston answered. 

 

“What’s the point of that?”, Genji asked, “What was the point of even having this meeting then?”

 

“We just wanted to know what you may know about this”, Angela said, looking mildly contrite. “The UN asked us if we could pass along any information we had.”

 

“So they can do what with it?”, Genji asked, verging on anger. “Talon and the clan are working together, they might have even helped them reform. The way they’re flooding the markets means they know something worse is coming. They used to do the same thing when they heard of potential turf wars between other families so they could turn a quick profit. They’ve already committed several crimes, why don’t we just stop them?” 

 

“Because we could all face arrest. The UN is still watching us for any signs of misconduct. Once they see that they can trust us we won't have to clear things with them anymore.”

 

“And how long will that take? A few weeks? Months? While something worse could happen.” 

 

“They said they were monitoring the situation”, Winston replied. 

 

“And how many more omnics and people will have to die while they monitor the situation? Something's about to happen and we have the chance to stop it and they just want us to wait?”, he demanded. 

 

“Yes”, Angela said, a look of resigned acceptance on her face. 

 

Genji stopped, that simple but firm response suddenly putting out the fire that had been rekindled in his chest. Something that burned far worse than what he had felt when the venom from Widowmaker’s mine had crept through his veins. He sighed for a moment, suddenly feeling winded as the room fell silent. 

 

Tracer piped up a moment later “Genji has a point, though. They had everything planned out they even had one of their best snipers there. Looking at everything they’re definitely trying to stir things up. If we could put a stop to it before something worse happens, shouldn’t we do that?” 

 

“Normally I’d say yes, but we can’t really risk it right now”, Winston answered with a frown. 

 

Genji listened intently, but all he could really hear was the voice of Mondatta telling his brother that they couldn't possibly risk having turrets at the monastery. That voice that he nor Zenyatta would be able to hear again because he had been needlessly killed. A bastion of kindness and peaceful teachings killed so that his death could be used as a catalyst for some greater conflict. So that the clan could profit so that Talon could continue their wretched mission of fear. He found himself suddenly seized with a rapidly building rage and a wave of disgust so strong that he was nearly knocked off his feet. Tracer watched him, as did the rest of them, all with looks of concern on their faces. He could feel the dragon trying to claw its way off his back, escape from his skin to seek out the source of his anger, to do away with it. He inhaled once, feeling those hardened scales work their way back in through his bones, scraping his skin. He sighed as he left the room no one followed him though he heard their hushed voices continuing to speak as he strode down the hallway. He heard D.Va inquire if there really was nothing they could do, that if the dialogue between the two factions that Zenyatta and the others had attended, would be enough to appease both sides. He didn’t stop to hear the response. He continued walking down the hall overcome with a sickening anger that had his dragon continuing to attempt his hurried exodus from his skin, pressing against his bones and along the lines of the ink on the scarred remains of his back, longing for escape. If Zenyatta were here he would take him in his arms, kiss him along his neck, stroke his legs, his arms, his shoulders, until the fretful clawing of his dragon had subsided and he had extinguished the fire in his stomach. But he wasn’t here. Even this conflict had parted them and he found himself quickly walking to his room and slamming the door behind him pacing the floor in frustration. What was the point of being here if there was nothing he could do? What was the point of waiting when it was obvious something worse was bound to happen? Why let them return at all if they were just going to be tied down? 

 

He settled himself on the bed burying his face in the pillow Zenyatta slept on. Deeply inhaling the faint scent of oil and aromatic beeswax that he had seen him sometimes rub along his joints. It sated him for the moment but did nothing to burn out his anger and he desperately wished for his presence so he could speak with him about what he should do. He couldn’t in good conscience let the clan continue as they had been if they could at least halt their activities, stop them from arming the already enraged and beaten masses then maybe they would have a chance of stopping a greater conflict. But the way they were now, confined to this tiny isle waiting for their commands, left a bad taste in his mouth and had him anxious to move. Technically there was nothing stopping him he thought. If he moved covertly enough Winston, Angela, and the UN would never have to know. They would simply see the clan conveniently disbanded, this time for good. Zenyatta’s voice came to mind then “Be mindful.” Genji sighed, wishing he was here now. Shaking off the brief twinge of guilt, his decision already made he sighed again and laid out on the bed, watching as the day slowly turned to night and the breeze grew cold and the gulls went quiet. He waited silently in his room listening to the crash of the waves, waiting for the sounds of chatter and laughter to cease as everyone retired to their rooms for the night. When it was already past midnight he quietly crept out of his room making his way down the hallway. He passed by D.Va’s room, she seemed to still be up if the gentle sounds of her fingers tapping the keyboard were any indication. He ignored it and continued down the hall making sure he wasn’t detected, trying to shake off his mounting anxiety. 

 

He followed the sound of the waves outside and onto the landing strip, his eyes turned to the water illuminated by the sparkling reflection of the moon. A sudden swell of yearning overtook him then, the cool night air and the sound of the waves reminding him of their brief time on Yonehara beach. He desperately wished Zenyatta was here with him, instead of the sound of the waves and the barely decipherable shapes of the seagulls as they scuttled along the rocks. He tried to settle himself, focusing on which vessel he was going to take until he heard a voice off to the side of him. “It's a hard decision right?”, asked that familiar voice. Had he not been better trained he would have jumped, instead he merely turned to see Tracer standing next to him, her features illuminated by the moonlight. She was accompanied by D.Va and Symmetra, the three women watching him expectantly. 

 

“What are all of you doing here?”, he asked in dismay. 

 

“Making sure you make it to Hanamura in one piece”, D.Va answered. 

 

Genji felt a sudden surge of dismayed gratitude which he quickly managed to shake off “What about the UN’s decision?”, he asked. 

 

“It does not make sense to wait for things to fall apart when we have the chance to put them back in their proper place”, Symmetra said matter of factly. “We understand why the UN has made their decision, regrettable as it is. But if your former clan and Talon is preparing for something as you said it is in our best interest to find out what that is and put a stop to it.” 

 

“Are you sure you’re all willing to do this, though? We’ll probably catch a lot of heat when we get back.” 

 

“Maybe, but the whole reason we’re here is to make sure people stay safe. I don’t like using shady tactics but if we can stop something worse from happening then I’m willing to risk it”, D.Va said.

 

“They’ve both got a point love. Besides we wanted to make sure you’d get back here safe and sound. Don’t want to worry your favorite bloke”, Tracer said with a small grin. 

 

Genji could barely stop the smile that slowly spread over his face. He shook his head feeling a bizarre mixture of affection and anxious worry as he gave them a firm nod. “We better be going then”, he said, and the four of them made their way to the hangar. Tracer sprinted over to the largest transport where D.Va’s mech was already safely secured inside as the rest of them followed closely on her heels.They quickly filed inside, their bags and a few dozen med packs stashed away under their seats. When they had strapped themselves in and Tracer had taken her place at the wheel, carefully plotting their course, Genji was finally able to still the nervous trembling of his fingers. He thought about Zenyatta, promising himself he would return safely as he filled his lungs with the cold air of the transport. He turned his eyes to see that they were making a quick ascent into the air, the watchpoint dropping away until it was nothing more than a minuscule speck amidst a vast dark ocean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos. I greatly appreciate it and it never to ceases to put a smile on my face. This is perhaps the longest chapter I've written for this story and I somehow managed to get it out ahead of schedule. I am hoping to get back to my schedule of updating every two weeks especially now that the story is close to ending. There was a lot of dialogue and set up in this chapter but it's going to pay off soon. Genji didn't have much of a plan when he decided to leave but in the next chapter, we're going to see that even if he did it would quickly fall apart anyway. We'll also finally be seeing Hanzo again next chapter and as I said it should be coming out soon. As always thank you for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The quartet makes it to Hanamura and Genji sees a familiar face.

One of the few times Genji had sat in on his father’s affairs had been while he was conducting business with some men from an opposing family. As a sign of good faith, they had come to the castle late one September afternoon bearing several plainly wrapped but expensive gifts. When his father had unwrapped the final box containing a beautifully blue Rolex submariner one of the men then presented him with a large black case. He opened it to reveal several firearms and then offered up another case that housed 10 finely crafted swords. Just a small example, as he put it, of the kind of goods that they hoped to sell in his father’s territory. Genji watched the proceedings with an obvious look of boredom and clad in a suit and tie that made him feel like he was baking alive in the unseasonable heat. He sat on his father’s left as he looked over each weapon, turning them over in his hands and examining each one with an obsessive attention to detail. Genji had no eye for such a task, not knowing what set one weapon apart from the other in terms of quality and not overly inclined to care. As his father had told him once “Leave it to you and we’ll be swapping real weapons for toy ones.” 

 

So with his skills defamed and his agitation at the unreasonable length of the meeting growing he watched with barely contained annoyance as his father passed each item over to Hanzo. His brother, ever the perfect heir, sat at their father’s right hand with a look of detached interest as he carefully examined the guns, looking them over with a keen eye and then placing them gently on the table without a word. The swords were the next things to come under his father’s scrutiny and he tested each one by slicing through several unwanted books with a keen accuracy and a briskness of motion that seemed to set the other men on edge. Genji had to wonder if his actions were less about testing the weaponry and more about intimidating their guests. Though he assumed, as he watched his father’s barely restrained smirk at the shocked look of their guests, that it had more to do with the latter. After another half hour of careful inspection, he finally seemed satisfied with their proposal and he swept over them with an appraising look followed by a brief nod as he officially accepted the gift. Genji had to halt the whoop of elation that had nearly burst from his mouth as the men gave his father a bow before he saw them off into the courtyard. His father returned some minutes later with a kind of enigmatic smile on his face and an unmistakable air of humor about him. Genji didn’t think on it long as he hastily began to unbutton his jacket and huffed “Finally.”

 

“Surely it couldn’t have been that bad”, his father said with an indulgent smile. 

 

“No, it was fine. We just spent 3 hours being bored to death and baked alive in this room, but it wasn’t _that_ bad”, Genji groused, pulling irritably at his tie. 

 

“Such dramatics”, Hanzo remarked with a rueful smile. “It’s not every day where you get to watch father do business. If you would focus you might actually learn something.”

 

“If you say so”, Genji said under his breath, forcefully stuffing his tie in his pocket. 

 

Hanzo gave him a brief look before leaving the room with the swords in tow. Genji still hadn’t moved from his spot, instead, he threw off his jacket and checked his phone to see several texts from his friends demanding his whereabouts each message heavily peppered with emojis. He laughed quietly as he replied to them before he looked over to see his father sitting at his desk assessing the guns again. He drew a small knife from his drawer and scratched 3 long jagged lines along the side of a large handgun. Genji watched him do it, a quizzical look on his face, his father looked up to see him staring. He flipped the knife with ease catching it by the handle after it made 3 tight consecutive turns in the air. “We have to make sure we sell the best to the best”, he said placing the gun on his desk. Genji still looked confused so his father elaborated “3 scratches means the weapon is passable”, he explained. “2 is good, and 1 is the best we have to offer”, he said picking up a larger rifle and drawing 3 lines along its length. 

 

“Why did you even let them give you those guns if they’re only passable?”

 

His father leaned back in his chair, it gave a low creak with the shifting of his weight “An alliance with the Fujimura family could be useful in the future. Not only that but they possess a good amount of territory that has gone untouched by the clan for years”, he answered with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and Genji fully understood his father’s true intentions. “I appreciate you staying for this my young sparrow. Even though you fidgeted the entire time and looked ready to crawl out of your skin”, he added with a short bark of laughter. 

 

“Can you blame me?” 

 

His father laughed again “You will learn to deal with it in time”, he said with a wave of his hand. 

 

“I don’t think so.” 

 

“You will trust me”, he said firmly. He rose from his seat and turned to stash the case of guns in an unmarked drawer behind his desk. “The trading rings within the city will be pleased to have some new merchandise. Even with subpar equipment like this”, he said moving to his aquarium where a small group of vividly red bettas and several slow moving albino tiger barbs awaited their food. Genji left him to his task as he finished texting his friends and ran off to his room to change.

 

Genji couldn’t bring himself to think of that exchange with anything other than a warped kind of fondness as he tried to pick through the all too vague memories he had of the clan’s dealings. Desperately looking for anything that he may have forgotten as the years had passed and his mind had become overly saturated with a past that seemed to hold more pain than kindness and harbored countless instances of misplaced anger. In a moment of wariness, he even found himself wishing for Hanzo’s presence, he knew the clan’s inner working like the back of his hand having spent so much time with their father. He would know every secret, every machination that they had gone through in their slow rise to power. Though the years had gone by and the task of leadership had passed from heirs to men pulled from the streets things never truly changed where the clan was concerned. They were staunchly entrenched in traditions that spanned centuries and outlived their members. Even the dragons themselves were phantasms from a bygone era, supposedly the product of the clan’s founder striking a deal with them, their forms and fates forever intertwined with the family. It was yet another fact that he had overlooked in his hurried retreat from the watchpoint and a thought that only helped to put him further on edge. Whoever this leader was would most likely have a dragon of his own. To his knowledge, infighting within the clan was not often done, but if it ever were to happen it always ended with the loser’s dragon being devoured by the victors in some kind of overly dramatic display of dominance. 

 

He questioned though if he was truly up to the task, it had been so long since he had summoned his dragon that he found himself wondering as to how to go about it. True, there had been times where he felt him threaten to rise from his body in the past and there had even been that instance where he had appeared in the storm fueled by his rage and eager to destroy. But he had always managed to reel him in, forcing him to submerge back into that inky space of his mind, left to claw restlessly at his thoughts in a futile attempt at escape. He tried to replicate the feeling, the rush of scales, the sudden gust of wind, the thunderous roar in his ear, but the dragon refused to appear. His fury seemed to be the only thing that attracted him these days and though he felt very strongly about tearing the clan apart he found himself lacking the righteous anger that he had before. In its place, he felt a kind of cold detachment that left him baffled. He should be furious he reasoned. It was the clan who had partnered with Talon, they were the reason Mondatta was dead, it was because of them that he and Zenyatta were forced to part. His thoughts turned to his partner, his cheeks warming at the thought of his face, his gentle laughter. He wondered if he was sleeping well, if Jesse was embarrassing him with tales of his early days in Overwatch, if he was feeling alright being back in King’s Row.

 

They had spoken about the matter briefly. The two of them had just finished meditating for the day and Genji had opened his eyes to watch as the light waned with the coming of late afternoon. Zenyatta sat next to him his hand resting on his knee, they didn’t speak for a long time simply content to watch as the birds flew overhead and the ocean moved and swelled around them. It was 2 days before Zenyatta was slated to leave and he had barely brought himself to talk about it, putting it off, as if the moment he spoke it would truly become real. He watched Zenyatta observe the sky, the birds, the high cliffs. He brought his hand to lay on top of his, rubbing along the ridges of his knuckles with his thumb. “What’s on your mind?”, Zenyatta asked. 

 

“You”, Genji answered quickly. 

 

Zenyatta hummed lightly “I have a feeling I am not the only thing occupying your thoughts.” 

 

“Well, maybe not entirely. I was just wondering if you were going to be ok going back to King’s Row so soon.” 

 

Zenyatta brought his arm around his middle, drawing him closer. “Thank you for your concern”, he said gently. “It would be remiss of me not to admit that I have thought about that same thing a great deal since I was assigned to this mission. As it stands now I can’t say I’m looking forward to returning there so quickly after what’s happened. But I know there are many more than I who see Mondatta’s death as an attack against themselves, they feel hopeless, angry, feelings that I have dealt with intimately. Those individuals, human and omnic alike, will need support just as I did just as I continue to do. But the equality they strive for will not be won through shows of force, and their displays of senseless violence will not bring Mondatta back, nor put an end to further conflicts.”

 

“Is there really any way to put an end to it?”, Genji asked.

 

Zenyatta paused to think, his other hand stroking his chin in contemplation. “I have considered a similar question”, he said finally “If people are simply predisposed to displays of prejudice if it will ever be a thing of the past.” 

 

“What conclusion did you come to?” 

 

“There is truly no way to know”, he answered “Though history would tell us that perhaps it has always been that way. But I have come to the conclusion that it matters little how things were. All I can concern myself with is what I can to do to improve things as they are now.” 

 

Genji nodded “I think I understand that more now. But are you really sure that being there won’t be a problem for you?”

 

“I have meditated on that for awhile now. As tempting as it may be I cannot simply shy away from every place that may bring forth bad memories. I will be fine”, he said firmly. “But I appreciate your concern Genji, as I always will”, he said kissing him. 

 

Genji thought on that exchange with fondness, he looked at his phone to see that they should be arriving in Hanamura soon. He felt his pulse quicken at the thought of returning to the castle, at the notion that Hanzo could very well be there, traversing through the empty and barren rooms with his bow and sparrows feather in some kind of attempt to appease his spirit. He wondered how he would react if they saw each other again. Would another fight break out? Would his fingers itch for his sword? Or would he simply want to speak with him? Even now he couldn’t be sure. As thankful as he was for Tracer, Symmetra and D.Va’s support he had no idea what part they would come to play in this if any at all. He had avoided coming back for the obvious reasons, the most pressing one being that he didn’t want to experience the same anxiety as he had before, nor experience the rush of memories that hit him so hard he was forced to stagger through the grounds in a daze. He wasn’t looking forward to returning there but he realized if Zenyatta could return to King’s Row, especially so quickly, then he could at least make an effort. He sighed trying to settle his mind, wishing he had the time and space to meditate. Instead, he let his eyes turn to the window watching the seemingly endless expanse of sea pass below them. He then turned his attention to his companions, D.Va was stretched out in her seat her arms crossed as she quietly dozed, Tracer was surveying the sky as she steadily kept them on course. As for Symmetra, she had been toying with a compact white disc for the past 20 minutes. She must have noticed his stare because in the next moment she raised her head to look at him. “I am working on an EMP device”, she said simply, holding it up.

 

“For the omnics.” 

 

“Precisely, even if they have been extensively modified as you said they are still Vishkar made. This will buy some time should they attack us, but not much.” 

 

Genji nodded, he had a sneaking suspicion that perhaps that was her main reason for accompanying him. That she wanted to do away with Vishkar's involvement. That perhaps she felt as if her honor was at stake if anyone were to find out the people who had given her her moniker were involved, even indirectly, in such heinous activity. He didn’t think to question her though, despite his initial reluctance he was glad she and the others were here. 

 

Hanamura was just as he had left it. Cherry blossoms carpeted the streets in a vibrant layer of errant petals, the buildings glowed varying shades of green and blue from the glare of nearby neon signs. He let his eyes sweep over the familiar outline of the cityscape as they landed just beyond Hanamura’s border that led out into mountainous terrain and verdant countryside. Just as he was about to unfasten his seatbelt he felt 3 pairs of eyes turn to him. He looked up to see Tracer and the others eyeing him expectantly. “So what’s the plan?”, Tracer asked.

 

Genji rapped his fingers against his knee for a moment trying to gather his thoughts. “I think I should go in alone first”, he said finally. “I can take out the guards that will be patrolling around the perimeter and inside the courtyard. Once I’ve done that I can scout out the location of their leader.” 

 

“Is it wise for you to be going in with no accompaniment?”, Symmetra inquired. 

 

“Yeah, don’t you want some backup? You don’t know how many guards will be in there”, D.Va said.

 

“True, but I do know the layout of the castle. If there are too many of them I can always just lay low until I have a chance to get out of there.” 

 

“So where does that leave us then?”, Tracer asked. 

 

“Once I find their leader I can message you. You can track my phone’s location and use those coordinates to set up a teleporter. I’ll need you to cover me while I take him out.” 

 

“You make it sound too easy”, D.Va remarked. 

 

“I know”, Genji answered. “But once he’s been dealt with the clan will have no choice but to disband. The clan elders have been dead for years so they have no one else to look to for guidance. If I defeat him leadership will automatically go to me and I can officially break them up and we’ll have the chance to take them into custody.”

 

“We may have needed further assistance for such a task”, Symmetra commented. 

 

“Maybe but we gotta give it a go, right? Can’t give up before we’ve even started”, Tracer said. 

 

He nodded, it was by no means a solid plan he realized, there were gaping holes in it. He knew things most likely wouldn’t fit so perfectly into place, even if he was able to subdue Daisuke and wrestle control of the clan away from him it would still be a challenge. Between loyalists, the stolen omnics, and the still present threat of Talon themselves he was sure they were in for an uphill battle. But at least the factions wouldn’t be so well supplied with weapons, the clan would truly be gone, and perhaps if the dialogues in King’s Row went well they could reach something like peace for a time. Still, he wasn’t sure of any of the outcomes, but he had to try he thought gripping his sword. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained”, said Hanzo’s voice in his mind, no longer sounding like the slightly softer tone of his adolescence, but the deep somber tones he had heard when he was here last. He stood, adjusting his sword on his back and swept his gaze over his three companions. He wasn’t sure what to say to them, they had no reason to accompany him yet here they were risking possible arrest to see him through his task. So he gave them a brief nod before uttering a quiet but heartfelt “Thank you”, and turned to leave. Before he was out into the night air he heard footsteps close in behind him, he turned to see Symmetra standing there the same white disc in her hands. She presented it to him with a smile ghosting her lips “Take this, in case you should run into those omnics”, she said simply. Genji took it from her, she inclined her head once as the device left her hands. “I hope we will find you in good condition when you call for us”, she said, and with that, she slowly turned and disappeared inside the transport. He felt the strong urge to run after her and thank her for her foresight, but he thought better of it. He needed to get moving and with that thought in mind, he headed off into the darkness. 

 

He took the same route to the castle, bypassing the main roads for back alleys and taking to unoccupied residential streets. He stopped for a moment observing the precipice of the castle as it cut an imposing figure into the night sky, a lonely relic of the past. Genji continued on, finally making it there after several more minutes of running. He surveyed the gate from the opposite side of the street looking for any signs of security. After 5 minutes of intense scrutiny, he realized there were no guards stationed there, no men in suits with their alliances safely tucked away to greet him. He was glad but then simultaneously suspicious. Genji made his way across the road and quickly climbed over the wall, landing quietly on the other side, his feet just barely disturbing the rocks as he surveyed the courtyard. Not a single person was out. He hadn’t expected to see a plethora of guards, that had never been their way, but he had expected to see someone by now. Instead, the only sign of life from inside the castle was the gentle sound of chatter and light coming from several of the open windows. He looked around before creeping through the courtyard and swinging himself up on the roof, he knelt down crawling along on his hands and knees until he was directly under a window. The distinct scent of cigarette smoke wafted out into the cool night air as he laid there pressed against the old and weather-beaten tiles of the roof. Suddenly he heard a man’s voice as it began to speak, his tone slightly annoyed “We’re probably not gonna get much for that last shipment”, he said. 

 

“It will be fine”, assured a second voice, much gruffer than the first. “They didn’t have to be good quality they just needed whatever they could get. It was just lucky for us that there were so many old guns stocked up in this place.” 

 

“I guess so, but I still don’t get what those Talon guys are up to. Killing that omnic? What the hell was the point of that?”

 

“I could care less. All that matters is that they’ve put us back in business again and you have something to do than down your weight in sake every night.” 

 

“Get off my back, you’re just mad I can hold my liquor better than you.”

 

“Yeah, that _has_ to be it.”

 

“You wouldn’t be talking so big if the boss was here.”

 

“Well, he’s not so I guess you’re just gonna have to suck it up.”

 

“Shit, where is he anyway?”

 

“You really don’t know? He’s out brokering some deal with those Talon guys.” 

 

Genji cursed under his breath, he should have expected this would happen. He had essentially come here on a whim and a prayer with no intel and only a half-formed plan that seemed to be quickly falling apart. He shook his head, they still had a chance he thought. There was still a chance, slim as it was, that they could salvage this mission and accomplish their goal. He contemplated finding another vantage point to wait for their boss to arrive when he heard something. It was faint but it sounded like a twang of a bow being fired. He looked to the courtyard below, his heart hammering in his chest as he tried to find the source of the noise but he didn’t see anyone. Not sure whether to be relieved or not he began to crawl towards the edge of the roof when he heard the same voices again, “Hey, open that window a little more would you? I’m suffocating over here”, it grumbled, stifling a cough. 

 

“Yeah, yeah. Keep your shirt on”, answered the other man, obviously annoyed with the task of having to air out the room. Genji took the opportunity to spring to his feet and begin to run the length of the roof. No sooner had he reached the edge did he hear a surprised exclamation and the shot of a gun. Thankfully the man’s aim was bad, he fell to the tiles only to see the bullet embed itself in the wall of the building in front of him. He leapt up, jumping to the higher plane of the next roof over. He looked behind him to see that no one had followed him, but he heard a commotion happening below him as he clung to the wall trying to obscure his form in the shadow of the castle. He was so focused on that simple task that he didn’t notice as one of the windows slid open. He felt a blow connect with his side and he was sent sliding down and off the roof, hitting his knees as he fell awkwardly to the ground. Holding his side he took several wheezing breaths before he looked up to see two men in the window frame watching him, one with a bat and the other attempting to line up a shot. Genji rolled out of the way before he could get a better aim on him, ignoring the pain in his side as he turned a corner and climbed into the rafters above one of the doorways. Hoping to hide himself away long enough so he could set up a quick ambush and make his way back to Tracer and the others. Demoralized, he ground his teeth as he waited for someone to run by, cursing his lack of forethought while he hung there. He could easily envision the looks of irritation and disappointment on his companion’s faces as he told them the news. He shook his head he couldn’t allow himself to feel bad about it now, no matter how pressing the need, he still had to make his escape. With that thought in mind, he continued to look around for any sign that he was being pursued and after several more minutes he began to grow impatient and dropped to the ground. Shuriken in hand he looked around quickly to see that there was no one in sight. Walking around the corner he continued to scan the courtyard only to see that his would-be pursuers were already laid out on the ground the shaft of an arrow protruding from their chests. He felt his pulse quicken and his eyes widen as he heard the distinct sound of an arrow hitting its mark. He quickly abandoned his spot by the guards and reclaimed his place up on the roof, staying low, his chest pressed to the tiles as he scanned the ground in search of the noise. The noise abruptly stopped just as he noticed a figure darting between the trees only emerging from its cover to get a better shot at one of the guards who had apparently been alerted to his presence. As he suspected the figure proved to be none other than Hanzo. 

 

As much as he had been expecting to find his brother here it still momentarily shocked him to see him again. As he watched him easily dispatch the guard and proceed to drag his limp form around a corner he suffered a momentary lapse of judgment. He considered abandoning his spot atop the roof and propelling himself down to confront him, but to what end he wondered. Trapped again by unkind memories and restrained by his own indecision he remained on the roof and simply watched as Hanzo laid waste to several more guards. There were no Vishkar omnics among them but he had to question their whereabouts as he saw Hanzo leave the courtyard and make his way inside. He stood up, intent on following him, fervently telling himself that once he confronted him he would know what to do. As if pulled by some undeniable thread of fate he followed Hanzo on shaking legs into the same dimly lit chamber where they had last met. Seized with anticipation and a burning sense of dread he climbed up into the rafters again, positioning himself so he had a good view of what he was doing. Genji watched him perform the same routine, lighting the incense and setting the sparrows feather carefully on the floor. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about this display, at one time he may have found it to be a heartfelt gesture. But considering that he knew the level of frequency that he must have performed this task he felt as if all the sentimentality and the good intentions had been stripped away, leaving only tired tradition and meaningless gestures in its wake. He continued to watch him, wondering if Hanzo would sense his presence again or if he would have to make himself known. No sooner had he thought it than Hanzo was issuing a kind of challenge. This time he didn’t allow for him to shoot him out of his hiding place and he fell to the floor and slowly stood to his full height, not sure what to do next. Hanzo turned to face him as he nocked an arrow “You”, he said accusingly. “What are you doing here?”, he asked as he took aim. 

 

Genji was frozen with indecision and rendered completely speechless. A thousand things ran through his head, so quickly that they all blurred into a mass of visually arresting colors. Whatever plan he had completely vanished as he looked at Hanzo’s face contorted with frustration, his tone defensive. He stood there staring him down until he saw the arrow come flying towards him and just managed to move out of the way as it sped past him. “What is it you want?”, Hanzo demanded, “Speak now or leave.”

 

After a moment of near panic, Genji realized he had no idea what to say. What words could suffice after all these years? Was there even a phrase that would closely match what he felt? It almost seemed easier to abandon words altogether and simply dash forward with sword drawn and teeth bared. But to his utter dismay, he didn’t feel the need to do that. There was no anger to fuel him, no unconquerable rage. It had all been replaced with a strange sense of frustration and a tender feeling he couldn’t easily name or place. When he finally found his voice he spoke softly “I needed to speak with you.” He watched his brother's face contort in confusion, his stubble now a full beard, the gray at his temples more pronounced. 

 

“I wished to speak with you the last time we met”, he answered, arrow still trained on his heart “And like a coward you fled.” 

 

“Or like someone who didn’t want an arrow fired at them”, he answered. 

 

“I would not have fired.” 

 

“You could have fooled me”, Genji answered. 

 

Hanzo gave a resigned sigh “If you wish to speak do it now. We don’t have much time”, he said. 

 

Genji nodded, not sure how to begin. He took a deep breath in an attempt to settle his thoughts, though it proved to be of little help as he found himself just as anxious as before. “I know why you’re here”, he said finally “Why you think you have to keep coming back.” 

 

Hanzo’s eyes went wide, he didn’t speak right away but when he did Genji could tell it was proving to be a painful endeavor. “You know nothing”, he said, his tone somber.

 

“I know more than you think. You come here because there’s nowhere else for you to go. Because this is the only place where you feel like you can really honor your brother.”

 

Hanzo looked at him then, his eyes narrowing as if that would better allow him to see past his helm to the man underneath. “Be quiet”, he rasped, his voice fluctuating between sober and bitter tones “You don’t know what happened that night.”

 

“You were forced to kill him.”

 

“I _chose_ to kill him.”

 

Genji fell silent, unsure of how to respond. At one time he wouldn’t have tried to dispute his words, he would have agreed with him easily, condemned him for his crimes with a laugh and a sneer. But now he wasn’t sure. He no longer felt the same white hot anger of his earlier years but those tender feelings were not yet so overwhelming that he felt compelled to succumb to tears and admit that he forgave him. He was caught in the middle of two extremes, a feeling the two of them seemed to be sharing in that instant. “I don’t see it that way”, he said firmly.

 

“It doesn’t matter how you see it. I was the one who killed him.”

 

“But he isn’t dead.”

 

“Now you mock me?”, Hanzo asked, visibly seething.

 

“I’m not-”

 

Before he had time to finish Hanzo had already nocked and fired his arrow. Genji dropped to the floor in a crouch before several more came flying towards him. He hid behind the shoji, trying to avoid them as they pierced the paper. In a sudden fit of anger, he blindly threw three shurikens. Three thunks met his ears and he knew he had missed. As thankful as he was he couldn’t deny his annoyance with Hanzo for refusing to listen to him. He heard his footsteps drawing closer and fled from the room and into the courtyard. Hanzo followed after him firing a scattershot at his feet that he was just barely able to block. He dashed up a short flight of stairs and into the next room which overlooked the city, giving him a clear view of the cherry blossoms below. Hanzo appeared in the doorway a moment later his brow furrowed in anger, his hand reaching for his quiver. 

 

“I’m not here to fight you”, Genji said angrily. 

 

Hanzo stalked closer, his eyes trained on him. “Then what are you here for? You said you came to talk but all you’ve done is mock me”, he said, the disdain palpable in his voice.

 

“I wasn’t mocking you. Your brother is still alive.”

 

“He is not”, Hanzo said firmly.

 

Before Hanzo had the chance to lob further objections he removed his visor. With his eyes exposed, he proceeded to slide off his faceplate and shed his helm. It was only when his face was completely bared to the cool night air did he look up to see Hanzo staring at him with a look of distressed shock, his eyes wide and jaw slack.

 

“Genji”, he whispered, his voice broken.

 

“Hello brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you for all the kudos and comments they are greatly appreciated! So as you can see this chapter is very short in comparison to the others. That's because this is essentially a set-up for Hanzo and Genji's true confrontation. I had considered cramming that into this chapter but it ended up being really long and I couldn't find a good place to end it. I also considered having this chapter more closely follow the "Dragons" short. But honestly, I didn't want to rehash it and since in this story, Genji was still having conflicted feelings about whether or not to forgive Hanzo, but was leaning more towards to trying to talk to him, I couldn't see him coming close to slitting his throat only to stop and reveal himself. Anyway, the next chapter is shaping up to be rather long so I hope to get it out in 2 weeks but it may take a little more time. Thanks for reading!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo and Genji finally have a chance to talk and preparations are made to go after the clan.

The silence that followed his brief greeting seemed to stretch for an eternity. When Hanzo finally did find his voice he spoke slowly as if he was unable to think of the appropriate words. “How is this possible?”, he asked, his tone awed.

 

“That I’m here or that I’m still alive?”, Genji inquired. 

 

“That you’re alive”, Hanzo answered thickly, still looking as if he didn’t quite believe what was happening. 

 

“You have Overwatch to thank for that. They found me after you left”, he said. Without meaning to he found himself suddenly transported back to that night. Hanzo’s face, his feeble attempt to shift the blame, his own angered pleas for him to return to the room, the crimson pool of his blood as it stained the floorboards. He inhaled deeply through his nose in an attempt to stave off the anger those memories brought on. Though it didn’t entirely work as he noticed Hanzo staring at him intently. “What is it?”, he snapped.

 

“Forgive me. I was just surprised by how much your appearance has changed.” 

 

“Why is that? It’s not as if there was much left of me after that night.” 

 

Had his eyesight been worse he wouldn’t have noticed the barely perceptible flinch Hanzo gave at his words. “I should not have been staring”, he conceded “I can only imagine how difficult it has been to be forced to live like that.” 

 

Genji was offended on multiple fronts, if Hanzo was trying at all to sound sympathetic he was failing miserably. “I’ve been getting by just fine”, he said, his ire truly raised now. “I know it may be hard to imagine but living like this isn’t the nightmare you think it would be.” 

 

“I did not mean to imply-” 

 

“Then what did you mean?”, Genji demanded. 

 

“I meant that I am sorry.” 

 

“For what you said?”

 

“For what I did that made it so you had to be rebuilt this way. For everything.” 

 

“You're sorry?”, Genji seethed, incredulous “That’s it?”

 

“What else would you have me say?”, Hanzo asked, suddenly sounding weary.

 

“How about I’m sorry about all the shit I put you through? All the pain you had to endure, all the nightmares.”

 

Hanzo’s face colored slightly “Now you are just being unreasonable.” 

 

“ _I’m_ being unreasonable?”

 

“Even if I did apologize for any of what you listed it wouldn’t be enough. You would still question my sincerity.”

 

“I might not.” 

 

Hanzo fixed him with a look that reminded him of their father, so much so that he faltered for a moment. Hadn’t he told Zenyatta emphatically that he hoped he and Hanzo could reconcile their differences? And yet here he was letting his anger get the better of him. Shouldn’t he be better than this? He sighed loudly, hoping the release of breath would alleviate his anger. “I’m sorry”, he said finally. Hanzo looked at him as if he didn’t believe him. “I mean it”, he said, “I didn’t come here to argue with you.” 

 

“I have seen very little evidence of that thus far”, Hanzo muttered. 

 

“I’m sorry”, he repeated, his tone edged with annoyance now. 

 

Hanzo turned to look at him then, an open expression of confusion on his face. They stood there staring each other down for what felt like hours until he saw the bullet graze Hanzo’s shoulder. Completely without thinking, he leapt in front of him just as another bullet came speeding towards them. He just managed to deflect it as the shooter came into the room accompanied by several others who silently corralled them against the wall before they began to fire. Genji stood his ground trying desperately to keep up with the onslaught of bullets that came charging towards them but knew ultimately he was fighting a losing battle as he felt his arms begin to burn with the constant exertion. Amidst the noise of thunderous gunfire, he didn’t even register the soft movement behind him as Hanzo moved just enough to fire a scatter arrow at the guard’s feet. It broke apart into several shafts of cyan light, splintering against walls and driving into arms and legs. 

 

Hanzo took the opportunity to pull him towards the balcony. Genji quickly followed as he leapt to the ground below. It was a longer drop than he remembered and when they finally landed he found himself partially winded from the adrenaline. Hanzo, however, didn’t give him time to catch his breath as he pulled him up and began to shove him towards the gate. “Stop pushing”, he grumbled half-heartedly. “Then keep up”, Hanzo replied as they charged towards the gateway. Without warning, he heard the tinny notes of metal on wood and felt his heart drop as he saw the Vishkar omnics appear from multiple doorways, some of them running to bar their exit. Genji threw a barrage of shuriken in the hopes that they would retreat. It did little to deter them as a small group of them, in a horrible display of speed, came surging forth with swords drawn in an attempt to strike. He and Hanzo were just able to twist out of the way before he was able to retaliate, sending two of them flying with a well-aimed kick and gutting the circuitry in another one’s arms. Before they could regroup to get in another hit he pulled out the EMP device Symmetra had gifted him and felt along its edge for a button or trigger. When he found nothing he silently cursed Vishkar’s stupid aesthetic choices as Hanzo tried to fend off the next wave of attack. “What are you doing?”, he demanded. 

 

“Trying to take down these omnics.” 

 

“You would achieve that goal better if you used your sword”, he stated, clearly annoyed. 

 

“No, give me a second”, Genji implored. 

 

“We do not have a sec-” 

 

The rest of Hanzo’s statement was cut off as one of the omnics rammed into him. He was sent flying into Genji who toppled to the ground under his weight. The EMP device slipped from his hands in the confusion and clattered noisily to the ground. Within a second it began to emit a pulsing turquoise glow that seemed to have the desired effect as the omnic’s lights began to sputter and darken as they fell around them. Hanzo groaned pushing the collapsed omnic off him only to reveal that he had managed to stab him during his harried tackle. Genji cursed loudly as he observed the short knife buried in Hanzo’s side and looked up to see a group of men emerge from the doorways. They circled around them their guns trained on their hearts as the both of them staggered to their feet. “If you want to live you’ll stay quiet and come with us”, one of them said gruffly. Genji looked over to see Hanzo holding his side as a steady line of blood began to stream down his leg. He knew what going with them would mean, it simply meant they wouldn't kill them here, they would do it discreetly behind closed doors with their hands tied and their eyes closed. The thought of that made his stomach churn, he gathered Hanzo close to him, trying to support his weight as he noticed the blade shifting in his side. “What’s your answer?” asked the man. Genji didn’t speak, instead, he tried to put all his focus into conjuring that tenebrous space where the dragon resided. Imagining the fate that awaited them should they comply, the anger he felt at Hanzo’s injury, he gave a desperate plea for the dragon to materialize. But to his complete and utter dismay, he didn’t appear. Genji cursed the clan’s founder for striking a deal with such fickle creatures but felt the annoyance drain from him as he looked to the guards surrounding them, their guns gleaming eerily in the moonlight as he gave them a resigned nod. “What are you doing?”, Hanzo hissed.

 

“Surrendering”, he answered solemnly. 

 

Hanzo looked appalled “Where is your pride?”, he asked. 

 

“Don’t be stupid. This has nothing to do with pride.” 

 

“So you’d rather be shot in the comfort of the castle? If we’re going to die we will die fighting”, he insisted. 

 

“What are you-” 

 

Before he could inquire further Hanzo had already abandoned his side and had summoned the dragons. They came rushing forward in a flurry of sound and color that sent the guards running off in all manner of direction. Genji took the chance to rush for the wall, Hanzo followed closely at his side his face contorted with pain as they made the quick climb and dropped to the ground. The two of them ran down the streets not bothering to look to see if they were being followed he could only assume that those who survived the dragon’s fury would be after them soon. He pulled out his phone and speed dialed Tracer as they continued to charge down the road. “Genji, what is it?”, she asked. 

 

“We need backup now! Track my phone's location and set up a teleporter!” 

 

“Roger that!” 

 

“You are moving too rapidly for us to establish a lock on your location. We will have to come as close as we can”, Symmetra called out over the line. 

 

“That’s fine. Just do it”, he cried as he heard a group of heavy footfalls behind them and the distant roar of the dragons. He looked behind him to see that it was not his brother’s spirits but a single dragon that burned a deep crimson hue as it sped towards them. They didn’t get much farther before he felt the searing pain as the dragon ran through his arm and the rest of his side before dissipating into a flurry of blood red scales. He felt Hanzo tug him onto a side street frantically looking him over to see the extent of the damage. He barely registered his brother’s look of concern, his entire left side felt as useless as it did when Reyes and Angela had pulled him from the castle floor. Before he could assure Hanzo that he was fine the guards had converged upon their spot, enclosing them then in a tight circle as they drew their weapons. Just as he was readying himself for another blow he saw a bolt of cyan shoot behind one of the guards and knock him sideways. There was no time to question it as D.Va’s mech came charging through the blockade. Tracer leapt out of the way as the guards were scattered in several different directions. The two of them landed in front of he and Hanzo, guns drawn and staring down the few guards that still remained. Their fighting spirit obviously depleted the stragglers turned and ran towards the castle, their original goal forgotten as they leapt over gates and ran through yards in their harried escape. In a matter of seconds, it was as if nothing had happened, the only sign that there had been a struggle was the scorch marks on the ground and the several broken remains of arrows and shattered swords at their feet. “Looks like we came a little late to the party”, Tracer remarked with a sigh. Genji smiled in spite of himself, even though the left side of him was slowly turning numb and he felt ready to collapse he was happy they had come with him. Suddenly he heard the deep rumbling growls of the dragons, he looked up to see them moving slowly through the air towards them, the bloodlust extinguished from their eyes and the blood drying on their claws. “Whoa”, exclaimed Tracer and D.Va at the sight of them. He slowly moved in front of Tracer, hoping D.Va’s mech would protect her should the dragons deem them to be a threat, but suddenly without warning they stopped. 

 

Genji braced himself, expecting yet another confrontation. But this time in a true display of their capricious nature the dragons halted in front of him observing him carefully before moving on, almost giving his wounded side a gentle caress as they passed. They coiled around Hanzo for a moment before their forms slowly dissipated into the night air. His brother looked dumbfounded as he stood there, the knife still sitting wet in his side. D.Va leapt out of her mech with a dramatic flair and attended to Hanzo, somehow managing to support his weight as she ushered him down the street towards the awaiting teleporter. Hanzo looked ready to wave her off but she stubbornly stayed in place as they both disappeared through the portal. She returned a moment later to walk her mech through as Genji looked to his left side to see it entirely scorched as if he had walked through a fire. Tracer sidled up next to him offering her shoulder for support so she could walk him through, he gladly took it as they fell in step. “Sorry we’re late”, she commented with a look of concern as she observed his injuries. Genji shook his head “I’m just glad you came”, he said as they walked through the teleporter to see that they were back on the transport. As he stumbled through he saw Symmetra waiting off to the side. She shot him a look that reminded him too much of Angela before giving a put-upon sigh, “I am glad to see you are not grievously wounded”, she said as the teleporter disappeared and the transport grew dark with the absence of its turquoise glow. 

 

He looked over to see D.Va helping Hanzo settle into his seat. He sat down with a low groan as she pulled out two med packs, handing one to Hanzo while passing the other to him.

 

“That should tide you two over ‘till we make it back. But you’ll still need to see Angela once we land”, Tracer said as she helped maneuver Genji into a seat and took her place at the controls. 

 

Hanzo gave the med pack a strange look before opening it and setting it on the armrest as he pulled the knife with tender and slow movements of his hand. Genji averted his eyes only looking back when he heard the knife hit the floor with a loud clatter. Hanzo set the med pack by his side, it's warm yellow glow reminded him briefly of Zenyatta’s healing orb. He felt a brief pang of melancholy overtake him as the transport left the ground and he opened up his own med pack, reveling in its soothing warmth. He let his eyes slip close as the lingering pain ebbed away and his thoughts turned to Zenyatta, wondering if his presence would have helped to smooth out the tense nature of he and Hanzo’s encounter. He briefly considered picking up their conversation where they had left off but thought better of it, they would have a chance to talk later he reasoned. 

 

The first thing he noticed was the almost impenetrable darkness. A darkness that was so all-encompassing that he thrust his arm out only to register the movement but was completely blind to the sight of it. He looked around, there was a faint sound that seemed to come from every direction, a low rumbling echo like the sound of thunder confined to the depths of a cave. It was a familiar sound but he had yet to see the source of it, as he continued to move forward the scent of damp earth flooded his nose and he suddenly became arrested by the same noise but louder than his ears could bear. He looked around frantically, holding his ears as the darkness swiftly moved away as if it were being pulled by countless invisible threads. The rumbling ceased as the darkness became nothing more than a black pinprick amidst a verdant landscape of kudzu. In the middle of it all he saw a massive sinkhole, he crept to its edge, peering down into its depths to try to gauge how far down it went. He didn’t have long to ponder on it as his brother's dragons came rushing up towards him. He jolted, falling on his back as they erupted from the ground, the force of their retreat sending clumps of earth and greenery flying into the sky and then propelling back down like sudden rainfall. They sped through the sky so quickly that they became nothing more than a streak of blue that was joined seconds later by a darting stroke of green. Genji felt his heart quicken at the sight of it, they flew around each other in a tight upward spiral before flying towards him. The speed and force of their descent startled him so much he nearly jumped and darted out of the way. Instead, he forced himself to remain still as they came to him, they stopped just shy of an inch from his shaking form and settled down around him. They enveloped him gently in their coils, speaking words that were too low for him to hear. Before he could even begin to ask them to repeat themselves they were already pulling away, racing back together over the fields and then plunging themselves back into the earth, leaving only a vibrant green vine in their wake.

 

Genji watched where they had disappeared for long moments until he noticed the landscape growing dark with the arrival of large storm clouds. He suspected to wake up as the rain began to fall but was surprised to see the dream continuing. He heard someone grumbling off behind him and turned to see Hanzo standing there frowning. Genji wasn’t surprised to see him, after all he had dreamt of his brother before but what he didn’t expect was for him to speak. “You saw them as well?”, he asked. 

 

”You’re really here?”, Genji asked, dismayed. 

 

“Of course.” 

 

“I didn’t think it was possible for us to visit each other’s dreams.”

 

Hanzo looked around “Nor did I, but I did not think it was possible for your dragon to visit my dreams either.”

 

“When did that happen?”

 

“Just now. He brought me here.”

 

“Huh. I guess that’s why I just saw your’s.”

 

“Then I suppose it is no mere coincidence that they’ve brought us together, but for what purpose I’m not certain” 

 

“Maybe they want us to try to make up?”, Genji offered. 

 

“I had tried to do that remember? You didn’t seem keen on the idea.” 

 

“All you said was that you were sorry”, Genji replied with a frown “Do you really think that can make up for everything you’ve done?” 

 

“Of course it cannot!”, Hanzo shouted, catching him off guard. “What else do you want from me?”, he asked stalking forward. “My own blood to be spilled? My life? I have nothing I can possibly offer you to atone for what I have done.” Hanzo turned his back to him then, “I had resigned myself to living with the guilt of my mistakes for the rest of my life. And yet here you are alive and well. I thought perhaps I finally had a chance to redeem myself. But if this is to be my punishment, that you live on but never forgive me for my crimes, then so be it.” 

 

Genji was taken aback, he stood there speechless as the rain continued lightly misting over them. He looked at him then, really looked at him as he had when they first met back at the castle. He saw the same hopeless look in his eyes, the same look of dejected despair, and for all his anger he couldn’t bring himself to damn him as he thought he would. Instead, he remained silent as the dream slowly began to fade. Genji woke with a start, he looked around disoriented and unaware of where he was, only to realize a moment later that he was still on the transport. Everyone was asleep save for Tracer who was continuing to man the controls and Hanzo who he noticed was sitting up staring out the window, his brow furrowed in thought. He was tempted to ask Hanzo about the dream to see if it was truly real but couldn’t bring himself to do it. What would he even say if it did happen? He didn’t agree with Hanzo’s final statement but he wasn't sure if he had the appropriate words to refute it either. Instead, he turned over in an attempt to go back to sleep, his guilt at least for the moment, forgotten as he drifted off. 

 

The next time he woke it was to Hanzo gently shaking him awake. Genji opened his eyes and nearly slapped his hand away as his brother gave him an unreadable look before pulling back. Genji shook his head in an attempt to get his bearings, he looked to see that the knife was no longer on the floor but there was still an obvious wound in Hanzo’s side that had yet to fully heal. As for him, he was just barely able to lift his left arm and stretch out his leg but knew they would both still have to make a trek to the med bay and endure the admonishments that were no doubt awaiting them. “What’s going on?”, he asked finally, still groggy. 

 

“We’ve landed”, Hanzo answered simply.

 

Genji nodded as he just managed to rise out of his seat. “Hey Hanzo, did you have a-”

 

“We need to move”, Hanzo replied, cutting him off. He couldn’t be entirely sure if the dream was real or some strange illusion concocted by the dragons. Either way, Hanzo refused to answer him as they made their way out of the transport and onto the shooting range. 

 

It turned out that Angela was waiting for them on the landing strip. She gave them all a stern look before gently ushering he and Hanzo into the med bay and asking Tracer and the others to visit later. Angela attended to them with a frown and a mildly chastising tone as she looked over Hanzo’s wound and ordered for Genji to lay out on the table while she left the room to get more supplies. Genji quickly followed her orders, flopping onto his back as his eyes turned to the sterile white of the ceiling and the faint but incessant buzz of the fluorescent lights. He realized that this was the first time the two of them had been alone since they stood in the middle of the road, battered and bleeding still trying to stave off the attacks of the guards. The silence between them was so tense it made his head spin. He looked over at him, wondering if he was just as on edge as he was. Hanzo didn’t meet his eyes, he was sitting on the examination table his hand pressed to his side with gently quaking fingers, his eyes focused straight ahead, his mouth turned down in a gentle frown. Genji wanted to speak to him, offer up some reassurance or try to continue the conversation that had started so poorly back at the castle. But he couldn't find his voice, instead, he laid there wishing Zenyatta were here. His orbs could easily heal his wounds instead of him having to endure Angela swapping his armor for new plating and spending hours here as she tinkered with his circuitry. Perhaps he could even advise him as to what to do with Hanzo here, he hadn’t been planning to offer up an invitation for him to accompany him back to Gibraltar. But considering how things were it might be for the best. 

 

“Is she the doctor who brought you back?”, Hanzo asked suddenly.

 

Genji was temporarily startled but recovered quickly enough to answer “Yes, she’s the one.” 

 

“I see, I will have to thank her later.” 

 

He felt a sudden surge of tenderness at those words as Hanzo looked at him then and asked: “What did you mean earlier?” 

 

“What?”

 

“When you said I was forced to kill you”, he said, sounding as if he nearly choked on the words. 

 

Hanzo was watching him intently for his answer, to his surprise he looked a little lost. He imagined he looked similarly the first time he was here. Genji looked away not really sure how to begin. “I’m not excusing what you did. But I guess I’m saying that I’m beginning to understand where you were coming from. Without father around you just had those old bastards for guidance. And he had always told you the clan was so gravely important that I guess if it seemed like I was going to tear it apart then what you did would be justified.” 

 

Hanzo gave him a pained look “It was not”, he said firmly “The clan was important but it’s worth did not outweigh your life.” 

 

Genji met his gaze “Then why did you do it?”, he asked quietly. 

 

“I was furious with you”, he answered quickly. 

 

“What? That’s it?” 

 

“That was a good deal of it yes.” 

 

“I don’t see why you were so angry with me. It’s not as if I did anything wrong.” 

 

“In your own eyes perhaps.” 

 

“Hanzo, are really you trying to tell me that living my life the way I wanted was wrong?” 

 

“No.”

 

“Then what are you saying?” 

 

“I am saying that I had very specific reasons for being angry with you, let’s leave it at that for now”, he said wearily. 

 

“No, we need to finish talking about this now. What were the reasons you thought it was a good idea to personally kill me? It wasn’t just the clan elders goading you on, and you said you were angry with me, so what did I do?” 

 

“I said we will speak of this later.” 

 

“What’s stopping us from talking about it right now?”

 

“I’d rather not”, Hanzo insisted. 

 

“Hanzo, we haven’t spoken in years and you choose now to stay quiet?”

 

“We haven’t spoken in years because I assumed you to be dead. Had I known you were alive I would have left everything behind to go looking for you”, he trailed off, tearing his eyes away from Genji and focusing them on the wall. “Let us drop the subject for now”, he said quietly. 

 

For the first time since they had reunited Genji felt confused. He couldn’t get a read on any of Hanzo’s expressions, nor could he decipher the nature of his speech, riddled as it seemed to be with double meanings and unspoken pains. He was tempted to press him for answers but just as he was about to speak Angela returned to the room with her materials in tow and sat down to begin stitching Hanzo's wound. She looked between them, seeming to sense the tension that hung in the air like a thick and dismal haze, but said nothing as she set to her work. Once she had substituted his armor with a shining replacement of chrome plating she ordered them both to stay in the med bay overnight to be sure there was no lasting damage from their wounds. Genji, having spent too much time in the med bay, surprisingly wasn’t thrilled with the idea of spending the night there. But he obeyed nonetheless, putting his memories of those joyless days aside as Tracer, Symmetra, and D.Va came later that evening to check on them. Genji was glad for the company since their last exchange the silence between he and Hanzo had only seemed to deepen and he was beginning to wonder if they would ever be able to talk without each conversation devolving into an argument. He couldn’t think on it long as the three of them inquired about his condition with gentle words and vibrant smiles and then turned to ask the same of Hanzo. His brother looked utterly baffled that they had even bothered to ask but answered them with a simple “I am fine. Thank you for your concern.” They left soon after that before Angela could come in to shoo them away, D.Va and Tracer shouting out their well wishes while Symmetra shook her head as they made their way out the door. Hanzo’s eyes followed them as they left the room, he looked stunned that they had cared enough to come. It seemed to only be a further testament to how he had been living for all these years. He knew that feeling well. He had been living a similar life, one devoid of compassion or understanding. He had gone so long without it that it had felt entirely foreign, almost repugnant when he had encountered it again. That same tender sympathy he had felt came back as he watched Hanzo lean back against the pillows with a gentle sigh. Genji considered trying to pick up the remains of their conversation but couldn’t bring himself to do it. So instead he simply rolled over on his good side and tried to retreat into slumber. 

 

The familiar darkness returned, this time preceded by the scent of burning wood and the low rumbling breathing of the dragon. He didn’t stop to look around, by the time he became aware of his surroundings the millions of emerald stars had already begun to fall and had pulled together and compressed themselves down into his shape. The dragon slowly appeared out of that white-hot furnace, his skin cooling until it became tangible and scaly. Genji gave him a stilted bow still cross over his absence the other night and his refusal to heed his fervent pleas. He was tempted to fix him with an icy glare but thought better of it as he asked, “Why didn’t you appear when I called you?” 

 

The dragon didn’t answer right away instead he merely blew a plume of smoke from his nose as his golden eyes fixed on him, roving over his form as if he had never seen him before. “You are not ready”, he said finally. 

 

“What?” 

 

“Your brother’s presence has your mind in turmoil.”

 

“We could have died”, Genji cried, indignant.

 

“You did not and you had my brother’s aid.”

 

Genji was perplexed. He didn’t understand the dragon’s nonchalant attitude about him and his brother’s well-being, nor did he see his conflicting feelings for Hanzo as being reason enough for him not to appear. He had secretly hoped that even if his will alone wasn’t enough to pull the dragon forth that his desire to purge the clan after it had been sullied by Talon would be reason enough for him to appear. 

 

As if on cue the dragon blew another plume of smoke from his nose, so thick that he was almost completely obscured. “When the time is right we will take back what is our’s”, he said, and Genji felt an abrupt surge of bloodlust that wasn’t his own. Obviously, he and the dragon shared similar thoughts on the clan but differing opinions on how to proceed. He laid his objections to rest, as the smoke finally dissipated and the dragon looked ready to move on. 

 

“Answer me this at least, why did Hanzo’s dragons bring him into my dream last night?”, he asked. 

 

The dragon remained silent for a moment, he laid his head down, his eyes closing as if he were contemplating sleep. “You already have your answer”, he said finally. Before he could inquire further the dragon blew one last plume of smoke from his nostrils, his body slowly dissolving into a glittering mass of viridian stars. 

 

Genji came out of the dream slowly. He sat up, wincing as the feeling in his side returned and he felt the full sting of his new cybernetics. He looked at the clock to see that it was only a few minutes past midnight and cursed lightly under his breath. He had hoped that by the time he woke it would be morning and he would be free to leave, stumble back to his room and fall asleep in the comfort of his own bed. Though he had only been here a short time he had found solace in that small space with Zenyatta, their evenings either spent talking or reveling in the warmth and familiar angles of each other’s bodies. He wondered how he was doing as he sat there in the dark listening to Hanzo’s gentle snoring in the corner of the room. He allowed himself a temporary smile as he looked over to see Hanzo laid out on the bed his hands clasped over his chest, head lolled to one side with his mouth slightly agape. From what he could remember of the short time they shared a room Hanzo had always been a strangely neat sleeper. Sleeping and waking in the same position for countless nights while he had tossed and turned in his bed like he was fighting off an attack. That was how Hanzo had given him the nickname sleep fighter for many months, only dropping the moniker when he reached the age of 10 and Hanzo was granted his own room. Genji had spent the first few nights wishing for his company unable to fall asleep without him in the room. It was only when he had grown older that he didn’t miss his presence as it would have been nothing but a detriment to the few times he brought his dates home. Now though he found himself oddly at ease as he settled himself back under the covers and he slowly drifted off, lulled to sleep by his brother’s snoring. 

 

The next morning he woke to the sound of a chime. For a fleeting moment, he thought Zenyatta had returned but was disappointed to see that it was merely the alarm on his phone going off. He quickly turned it off and tossed it to the end of the bed with a sigh eager to go back to sleep when he noticed the distinct lack of snoring. He looked over to Hanzo’s bed to see that he was gone. In a blind panic, he scrambled to get out of bed, tossing the sheets and blankets off as if he were attempting to hurl them against the wall. He ran out into the hall only to see no one around. Without thinking he ran out onto the landing strip to see Hanzo taking long strides towards the somber tones of the overcast beach. Genji ran after him, not entirely sure of why he was so frantic and managed to catch up to him just as he had begun walking down the steep and rocky incline towards the shore. “Hanzo”, he called as he tugged on his shoulder. Hanzo spun around to see him as he bent over, suddenly winded though he had barely entered a sprint. “What are you doing?”, he asked, still holding on to him as though he might disappear. 

 

Hanzo’s eyes softened for a fraction of a second as he watched him catch his breath. “I am leaving”, he said quietly “I have already thanked your friends as well as Dr. Ziegler for her good work so there is no need to tarry here.” 

 

“So you were really going to leave without telling me?” 

 

“I left a note by your bed.” 

 

“That doesn’t matter. Where are you even going to go?” 

 

“I have several places in mind.”

 

“But no concrete plan.” 

 

“I will think of something but I cannot continue to stay. I do not belong here.” 

 

“You could if you tried.” 

 

“Perhaps, but I truly have no desire to work for Overwatch.” 

 

“I didn’t either at first. But I found a place here after I helped them to destroy the clan.” 

 

“What? So that was you?”

 

“Yes, what did you think happened?”

 

“I wasn’t sure. In all my visits back home I had heard whispers that the elders had been killed and I had noticed their dwindling numbers but I was never certain who was doing it. All I knew was that the castle laid abandoned for years. I had assumed they had just disbanded completely with no one left to guide them.”

 

“They had but they’ve reformed recently.”

 

“What? Who is leading them?”

 

“Someone by the name of Shimada Daisuke. Does that name sound familiar?”

 

“Of course, he was our first cousin.”

 

“Really? I don’t remember him.”

 

“You wouldn’t he was rather forgettable.”

 

“Well, it looks like he wants to make a name for himself now. He even made a deal with Talon so he could rebuild the clan.”

 

“The terrorist organization?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Father would have never-”, he cut himself off “Why are you telling me all this?”

 

“Because I want you to stay and help me destroy the clan.”

 

Hanzo looked as if he had asked him to toss himself off the cliff rather than help him with his task. He looked away from him then, focusing his gaze on the watchpoint behind him. “I am not certain that is a good idea”, he said quietly.

 

“I’m not either”, Genji confessed, “But we have to at least try.”

 

Hanzo went silent for what felt like a long time. When he finally spoke again he met his gaze. “This is a private matter, we should not involve others in it.”

 

“It’s too late for that and the only reason I’m even here is because Overwatch has more resources than either of us do. But even with me here I don’t have extensive knowledge of the inner workings of the clan like you do.”

 

“Not for lack of trying”, Hanzo muttered. 

 

Genji heaved an exasperated sigh. “Are you going to help or not?”, he asked impatiently.

 

“I will stay as long as it takes to disassemble the clan. As for after that, I cannot say.” 

 

“I understand”, Genji answered, satisfied for the moment as he ushered Hanzo back towards the watchpoint and out of the cold. 

 

Genji took it upon himself to help get Hanzo settled in. As he helped him to clean out the room across the hall from his he realized he was being strangely erratic, his behavior mirroring the same trait he had cursed in the dragons. He didn’t fully understand himself, he had gone looking for Hanzo so they could make amends. And yet every conversation thus far more of their time was spent backtracking to utter hasty half-hearted apologies rather than actually making progress. He wasn’t sure if he had wanted Hanzo to stay after their task was done yet he had chased him out onto the landing strip and held onto him as if he were deathly afraid of being separated again. He had told himself even if he did decide to stay that they would still require space and here he was helping him move into a room right across the hall. None of his thoughts matched his actions and it only served to frustrate him further while he attended to clearing out several cobwebs in the corner. Hanzo hadn’t spoken to him since they had begun their chore he hadn’t expect him to even when they were boys he had been fairly quiet always in need of gentle coaxing to join the conversation. Now though he would have happily welcomed some chatter, anything that could act as a distraction from the tumultuous waves of his thoughts. Each one contradicting the other until it became an unwelcome mass of discordant voices all posing countless questions on the validity of his feelings towards Hanzo and what he really hoped to achieve from this harried and strange reunion. 

 

Honestly, he wasn’t sure what he wanted and that proved to be the most frustrating thought of all. By the time their chore was done and the room was stark but immaculate he was completely beside himself with a frustrated anxiety that only seemed to grow as he stood there watching Hanzo look over the room with mild interest. He promised himself that he would meditate the moment he was back in his own room but not before he told Hanzo that he would accompany him to get some new clothes the next day. Hanzo pulled a face at his offer “I am more than capable of buying my own clothes”, he stated dryly.

 

“Clearly you’re not”, Genji answered, gesturing to his outfit.

 

“It is traditional garb”, Hanzo protested. 

 

“It’s outdated”, Genji insisted “Besides you don’t have anything else to wear.” 

 

Hanzo finally conceded to his plan and Genji left him to his own devices, staggering to his room and flopping on the bed, mentally drained. He laid there for a moment letting the events of the past few hours whirl wildly in his head before sitting up to begin meditation. He stayed like that for a good 45 minutes before he felt his phone vibrate and picked it up to see that Zenyatta was calling him. It felt like an eternity since they had spoken and he felt his pulse quicken, almost beside himself with the simple joy of being able to hear his voice again. “Hello Zenyatta”, he answered fondly.

 

“Hello Genji, it is good to hear your voice. I have missed you dearly these past few days. Forgive me for not calling you sooner but we have been in rather rigorous meetings for most of the day.”

 

“It’s fine, I’m just glad to hear from you.”

 

“And I you. Are you currently in Hanamura?”

 

“What? Oh no. We left out of there pretty quickly”, he answered, having completely forgotten about the quick text he had sent him as they had made their hurried exodus from the watchpoint. 

 

“What happened?” 

 

“Tracer, Symmetra, D.Va, and I made it to Hanamura safely but I went on to the castle alone. I met Hanzo there again and we had a short talk before I revealed to him who I was.” 

 

“What was his reaction?”

 

“I don’t really know how to describe it”, he said slowly. “He was shocked at first but I think he was happy. We didn’t have much time to talk before the guards came in and attacked us.”

 

“Were you injured?” 

 

“Only a little”, he said quietly.

 

Zenyatta hummed lightly “I had hoped not to find you in the med bay when I returned.”

 

“You won’t I was only there for one night.”

 

“Genji.”

 

“I know, but I’m fine I promise.”

 

“Even so it pains me to know that you were injured and I could not be there to assist you.”

 

“You don’t have to feel bad about that. What you’ve done for me is more important than just attending to my wounds.”

 

“Perhaps, but the pains of the soul and the body are equally important. As such both require adequate care to heal properly.”

 

“Huh.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“It’s just...I’ve had nothing but conflicted feelings since bringing Hanzo back to the watchpoint. Part of me thinks I shouldn’t have brought him here but I asked him to stay until we take care of the clan. I want to reconcile with him but every time we talk we just end up arguing. I guess I just wish things were easier.”

 

“You cannot rush your reconciliation Genji. The two of you have been apart a long time and parted on less than amicable terms. You cannot expect your first conversations in years to be harmonious, they will most likely be as rocky as you’ve described. But you must keep moving forward. If you are able to come to a place where you can be civil with one another then your time together will be much more peaceable.”

 

“I want it to be”, Genji said fervently. 

 

“Then you will simply have to take things slowly. Begin with softer subjects and then move on to the true heart of the matter. In time you and your brother will achieve the harmony you seek.”

 

“You really think so?” 

 

“There is no doubt in my mind.” 

 

Genji smiled, his face warm from the firmness of his words, the deep tones of his voice. He wished for him then, desperate to have him in his arms. “I love you”, he said reverently. 

 

“I love you too”, Zenyatta answered warmly. 

 

They spent the rest of their time talking about other things. Zenyatta informed him that the meetings were going well and apparently they might actually reach a truce. Genji inquired as to whether or not Jesse had been trying to embarrass him to which Zenyatta said that he had but was thoroughly dumbfounded by him fully embracing all of his quirks and shortcomings, a fact that made Genji crack a smug smile. They got off the phone not long after that as Zenyatta told him they had one more meeting to attend before the day was over and he had to go make preparations. Reluctantly, Genji let him go, trying to sate himself with the knowledge that in a few more days he would be returning but ultimately failing as he tossed the phone aside and tried to occupy himself with one of the books Jesse had lent him.

 

The reading didn’t last long, after the first few pages of _Dr. Faustus_ he found himself restless and in need of some fresh air. It was dark by the time he ventured out of his room, the watchpoint laid quiet save for the soft white noise of the computers in Winston’s lab and the ever-present sound of the sea. He walked outside to see Hanzo sitting out on the shooting range his head tilted back to observe the night sky with a steaming mug in his hand. Genji considered Zenyatta’s words, in his haste to get things out in the open he most likely had rushed Hanzo, who no doubt was still reeling from the news of his survival. He would need to be more understanding and less aggressive in his tactics if he wanted that peace and understanding he had so adamantly described to Zenyatta. So with that thought in the forefront of his mind, he joined Hanzo on the shooting range, sitting down next to him without a word. Hanzo glanced at him but remained silent simply taking a sip from his mug, the smell of black tea wafting on the breeze. “You chose the best spot on the island”, Genji said abruptly, his voice sounding awkward and forced even to his own ears “This place has the best views.” 

 

“I will admit that it is a perfect place for stargazing”, Hanzo answered.

 

“I thought so too. But I could never identify most of them.” 

 

“That is because you fell asleep. You would always be snoring right as father was about to set up the telescope.” 

 

“Ok, if you know so much which star is that?”, he asked pointing to a bright pinprick of light directly below the waning moon. 

 

“That is not a star it’s a planet.” 

 

Genji balked “Alright, which planet?” 

 

“I believe that is Jupiter.” 

 

“How do you even know that?”, he asked, dismayed.

 

“A simple guess, though I may have checked my phone for the information earlier and that is why I am here in the first place”, he said with a bit of a smirk. Genji half-heartedly swatted at him, Hanzo narrowly avoided the blow giving a short bark of laughter at the failed attack. Genji grumbled but quickly settled himself back in his place and demanded he tell him what some of the other constellations were. Hanzo obliged him though he did admit that he had forgotten a few as the years had passed. They remained there for the next hour watching the moon slowly ascend into the unfathomable darkness of the night sky with Jupiter closely following its trail. In spite of everything, the pressing matter of his memories, and the abandoned remains of their last conversation Genji found himself enjoying their time together. So much so that he was almost disappointed when Hanzo announced that he planned to go inside. He quickly followed him into the warm confines of the watchpoint hoping fervently that their future interactions could go as smoothly as they had tonight. 

 

Genji led Hanzo into the city the following day, compelled to tear him away from the archaic trappings of the clan and determined to slog his way through the mire that was their relationship. Even so, he found it hard to concentrate as they roamed through the crowded streets and ducked into countless apparel shops because continually and without warning his thoughts were constantly pulled back to Zenyatta. He would be returning soon but that did little to temper the sting of his absence even Hanzo had seemed to notice his anxiety as Tracer had shuttled them to the mainland shooting him a perplexed look as they flew through the early morning fog. Genji waved him off, desperately trying to refocus his thoughts on the matter at hand. Though he did have to wonder how Hanzo would react when he finally told him that he was in a relationship. Hanzo was no stranger to his flings, having accidentally walked in on countless trysts and incalculable partners but he wondered how he would react to the news that not only was he in a committed relationship but one with an omnic monk. He imagined several scenarios all of which ended in brutal arguments but ultimately even if Hanzo wasn’t thrilled about him and Zenyatta’s union he didn’t care and he was sure once he got to know him he would come to see how great he truly was. After 2 hours of shopping Hanzo’s arms were ladened down with several bags of clothes. Genji was thoroughly satisfied with his purchases though he couldn’t help but think he should have bought the shirt with the twin dragons dancing on the back, an item which he had urged Hanzo to buy to which he had given him a flat stare before gently refusing to waste his money on it. They stopped at a fairly secluded bench while Genji called Tracer so they could rendezvous back at the shoreline she cheerily replied that she would be there in 30 minutes and promptly hung up. Genji took a seat next to his brother who was sitting there watching as a continual stream of people passed, the silence between them feeling far less tense than before but still distinctly awkward. Hanzo broke the quiet first, “I’ve been curious about something”, he said. 

 

“What?” 

 

“When we were back home and facing down those guards before your friends intervened you looked as if you were attempting to do something.” 

 

“I was trying to summon the dragon.”

 

“You have had trouble making him appear?” 

 

Genji saw no reason to lie “Yes, for awhile now.” 

 

“Strange.” 

 

“What is?” 

 

“I have been having trouble with them as well. They come to me easily but are difficult to command.” 

 

“I saw that. Why do you think that is?”

 

“I cannot be sure”, Hanzo answered irritably.

 

Genji had an inkling as to the real reason why they were out of control but didn’t dare to press him now. Instead, he decided to voice his own concerns “Mine hasn’t been responding to me at all. He’s only come when I’ve been truly angry and never at any other time.” 

 

Hanzo looked contemplative “Have you spoken with him?”

 

“Yes, but you know how that goes.”

 

Hanzo snorted “I certainly do. I had considered it for a long time, about how father and the rest of them would have reacted if they knew about my predicament. When the clan was first established it was seen as a sign of failure to be unable to summon and properly command the dragons”, he said with a slight frown.

 

“I guess we’re both failures then”, Genji said amiably. 

 

“I suppose so”, Hanzo answered quietly.

 

They abandoned their seats and made their way back onto the main street to begin the long walk back towards the beach. As they passed several shops something caught Genji’s eye, it was sitting in the window of a jewelry store, a simple band of gold nestled in a plain burgundy box. He hadn't been lying when he told Jesse of his plans to someday settle down with Zenyatta. Though given the current state of things he had no idea when that would happen but the secret and unspoken desire of his heart was that it would happen soon. He gazed at the ring as it shone under the brilliant lights of the display case wondering if his proposal would be any less awkward than his first confession. Despite his nervousness, he was excited at the prospect of finally making it official, having the chance to lay bare the full extent of his love and his tireless devotion for Zenyatta. He was snapped out of his reverie as he felt Hanzo sidle up next to him “What are you looking at?”, he asked, sounding mildly suspicious. “Nothing”, he answered quickly, turning away slightly embarrassed he had gotten so caught up in his daydream. Hanzo didn’t look convinced but didn’t press him further for an answer as they finally arrived at the beach and waited for Tracer to appear.

 

Upon arriving back at the watchpoint Genji followed Hanzo down the hallway and waited as he opened the door to his room and walked inside with his bags. Not entirely certain why he hadn’t left yet he idled in the doorway debating whether to come in as he looked over the mostly unfurnished room save for the neatly made bed, the unadorned desk, empty shelves, and his bow standing in the corner. “Sorry the room is so bare”, Genji said abruptly, struck by how lonely it seemed.

 

“It is fine”, Hanzo said setting his bags on the bed “I have lived in far more sparse settings.” 

 

“Where have you been?”, Genji asked, suddenly curious as he abandoned his spot in the hallway and strode into the room.

 

Hanzo looked at him with a frown, as if he were debating whether to answer him or not. After a few more moments of hesitation, he finally spoke. “Everywhere it would seem. I spent my days eliminating what was left of the clan in a feeble attempt at atonement I suppose.”

 

“I guess we had the same idea”, Genji replied. 

 

“Yes, that would certainly explain why several of the guards were surprised to see my dragons, I suppose they were expecting yours. How long did you spend hunting down the remnants of the clan?”

 

“For almost a year.” 

 

“I see. For a time my conscience was clear knowing they were gone that I was snuffing out the last remainder of the clan’s old guard. It certainly made my frequent visits to the castle easier”, he trailed off, his eyes turning to the window “When we first met I had thought you were simply just another guard, though when you were able to redirect the dragons I had my suspicions about your heritage. Even so, it still baffled me to see you alive. I am not sure if I made this clear before but I am happy to see you are doing well. Admittedly, though, I have to wonder how you can bring yourself to assist me as you have been.” 

 

“Honestly, I’m not sure what to tell you. For a long time, I didn’t think I could even be this close to you without trying to attack you. I would think about that night, what you did, what you said, and I would get angry all over again. But things have changed. I've changed.” 

 

“You have. And for the better, it seems.” 

 

“There was nothing wrong with the way I was back then...not entirely.” 

 

“It did me no good.” 

 

“Maybe you were just too much of a tight ass”, Genji replied, exasperated. 

 

“It’s not as if that was my choice. You know why I had to be.” 

 

“Not entirely.” 

 

“Genji-” 

 

“I honestly didn’t know Hanzo. You changed a lot after mother passed.” 

 

“Me?”, Hanzo asked, incredulous. “What about you? Romping through the city with all manner of parasites, not coming home until far past midnight. You made father sick with worry.” 

 

“You do know why I left though? Why I stayed out so late?” 

 

“I believe you once said that living with me was a nightmare. That being passed out on the floor of a bar and nearly trampled to death was preferable to being at home with me.” 

 

Genji winced “I didn’t say that.” 

 

“That and worse. Though I assumed you were drunk for some of those arguments considering most of what you said failed to make any sense.” 

 

“I’m sorry. But you really did drive me crazy back then.” 

 

“The feeling was mutual.” 

 

“I’m sure, but I did have a reason for not wanting to be there.” 

 

“Other than me.” 

 

Genji nodded, taking a deep breath as he tried to find the right words. “I was trying to cope. After mother passed you know what happened”, he said. 

 

“Of course, father sunk himself into his work. I do understand why he did it, he too was trying to cope with her death. Though I had always thought there were better ways for him to accomplish that goal.” 

 

“Why didn’t you tell him that?” 

 

“It was not my place to dictate how he mourned her loss. But it had crossed my mind that perhaps you being gone was your way of dealing with it.” 

 

“I’m surprised you caught on to that. You weren’t around much.” 

 

“I tried to be.” 

 

“I know”, he said feeling a little foolish, “You were just trying to help father.” 

 

“Yes. We were both only boys then there wasn’t much we could do.” 

 

“I know”, Genji answered, remembering those first few months after her passing. “I didn’t know how to handle her death, even when I got older. Eventually, I just grew angry with everyone for what happened.” 

 

“Yes, I remember your outbursts.” 

 

“Can you blame me for that?”

 

“No, why do you think I spent so much of my time sparring or practicing kendo? I needed a way to clear my head. Though eventually, I grew angry with you as well.”

 

“Why?” 

 

Hanzo gave a put-upon sigh as if it pained him to answer. “When father grew ill you could not be bothered to stay and assist me”, he stated finally. 

 

Genji went silent, his previous suspicions confirmed. Suddenly, in that instant, a thousand moments were clarified. He understood then the minutiae of Hanzo’s actions the sternness of his gaze, the slight wavering of his voice when speaking about their father’s condition, those days he spent wordlessly training not wanting to be disturbed, they had been his way of coping. His loosely made threats and urgent pleas, that ultimately all fell on deaf ears, began to make sense. He had been hurting too in his own way, secretly hoping that Genji, the errant and unruly sparrow would try to console him just as he had done for him all those years ago when their mother had died. In all those years they had spent suffocating in the confines of that castle he had failed to recognize it. Perhaps he had and had merely pushed it out of his mind, assuming that he was fine simply because there were no traces of pain on his face, no trails of tears on his cheeks. He should have known better. He should have realized it sooner. He had been too wrapped up in his own grief to care, too adamantly opposed to his brother’s voice that tried to reel him in. In the end, they had ultimately failed each other and he lamented all the wasted years they had spent refusing to speak to each other, all the words, the explanations, the apologies that went unsaid. “I’m sorry”, Genji said suddenly, dismayed at the strength of that waylaid epiphany and baffled by the sincerity of his apology.

 

Hanzo looked at him then, finally wrenching his gaze away from the window and the slow moving clouds that lay beyond it. He looked as if he doubted the sincerity of his apology but said nothing his mouth still set into the hard line of a frown his eyes trained on his face. “It matters little now”, he said quietly. 

 

“No, it still matters even after all this time. If you were having problems why didn’t you say anything?” 

 

“You never gave me the opportunity to”, Hanzo answered “I had tried and failed many times to talk to you, the few times you were around. But you refused to listen. You would quickly brush aside my concerns or used what I was saying as the basis for yet another argument.” 

 

“Only because most of the time you were just there to complain about my behavior.” 

 

“Not every time.” 

 

“Right, only 70-percent of the time.” 

 

“Which leaves 30-percent, and those were the times I truly did try to speak to you about my own concerns. But it was obvious that you did not care so I ceased trying altogether”, he said bitterly.

 

Genji thinks, his mind transporting him back to just one of many instances of miscommunication. The both of them were younger, not yet changed by time but still feeling the effects of their father’s death. He had been out all night trying to drown his sorrows in expensive liquor and had finally stumbled home after several hours spent in the company of a very demanding woman and a supremely accommodating man. The following morning he found Hanzo in the kitchen, not noticing the dark circles under his eyes, the only visual tell of a disturbed night. “Yo”, he said as he had sat down at the table and began tapping away on his phone, exchanging a long string of texts with one of his friends inquiring to how his night went. Hanzo put a cup of hot tea in front of him, the mug making a sharp arresting thud against the tabletop. “Thanks”, he muttered, his focus on his phone completely unbroken. 

 

Hanzo sat across from him, his own cup in hand. “Could I persuade you to look away from your phone for a moment?”, he asked, clearly annoyed.

 

“That depends how much are you willing to pay?” 

 

“Stop it. This is serious”, Hanzo answered tiredly. 

 

Genji hummed leaning back in his chair “I guess so. What’s on your mind?” 

 

“I had a dream about father last night.” 

 

He felt tears threaten to fall as he tried to play it off, hide it away. “Oh yeah? he said, his eyes darting to his phone to see a new message promptly appear. He’s itching to reply, in desperate need of a distraction. 

 

“Yes”, Hanzo answered “Honestly it was more of a nightmare. It started normally, we were walking along this trail when suddenly-”

 

Genji’s phone rang and he had never been more relieved or more grateful to have nosey friends as he quickly scooped it up and leapt from his seat. “We’ll talk about this later”, he declared, practically running from the room “I have to take this call”, he said as he fled, trying to ignore the sudden urge to cry. That seemed to be all he could do whenever any mention was made of their father, even the good memories he had seemed to be tainted with an unshakeable sadness and he found himself taking quick long strides out into the courtyard wiping away the errant tears that had streamed down his face. He ignored the pain and the fleeting bite of guilt as he let the call pass to voicemail in favor of catching his breath. He stood in the courtyard the petals of the cherry blossoms blanketing the ground around him. He sighed, letting the feeling wash over him and then immediately trying to shy away from it. Their father had been gone a week and that pervasive feeling of sadness only seemed to grow stronger as the days sluggishly passed by until they had blurred together into something he couldn’t recognize. He had shown no signs of it to his friends, though many of them had heard about it through hearsay and had asked after his wellbeing countless times. He had lied and told them that he was fine when in reality he felt as if he was being slowly torn apart. In an ill-fated attempt to assuage his pain he left again that night and had gambled away amounts of money that turned heads, made love like a man possessed, and drank himself nearly to the point of passing out.

 

He had come back home the following morning and had staggered into bed, laying there as he tried to shake off a horrific hangover. Hanzo had visited him not long after, fixing him with a steely gaze. “You cannot continue this way”, he said setting a bucket near him in case the urge to gag came. 

 

“Why do you care?”, Genji asked, his words slurred. 

 

“I care because you are my brother. I care because you are a burden on the clan.” 

 

“So that’s what this is really about?”, he asked bitterly. 

 

“You misunderstand.” 

 

“No, I don’t think so”, he said, cut off by the sudden urge to vomit. Hanzo put a hand on his shoulder to steady him but he shrugged it off as he continued, feeling more miserable than the hangover could ever make him. “I can’t do anything that will make the clan look bad even if it means giving up one of the few ways I have to cope with father’s death.”

 

Hanzo looked slightly taken aback at his words, a moment later he seemed to regain his composure. “Your method of coping is not healthy nor is it sustainable”, he said, his tone softer. 

 

“I know that”, he answered hotly “But I don’t exactly have someone to help me through this.”

 

Hanzo looked away, his eyes trained on the wall. “I would like to be around more”, he conceded finally “But-” 

 

“Yes, I know you have your damn duty to the clan. I’m surprised the elders let you off your leash long enough to come check on me.” Hanzo was clearly agitated now, he left taking the bucket with him, leaving Genji to lay there still reeling from the hangover and seething with hurt feelings.

 

He came back to the present conversation slowly, realizing he had most likely been silent for too long when he noticed Hanzo staring at him intently. “I never really thought you might be suffering too”, he said, at last his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth. 

 

“I had thought as much. There were times where I wish you had been there to bear the burden, though you were never moved to. It was infuriating, it seemed as if things were falling apart all around me and you were off raising hell throughout the city. Destroying our reputation, gambling away incalculable amounts of money, and bringing home countless men and women. Many times I had wanted to storm in your room and drag you out by your neck, but father insisted that I not. It only served to raise my anger, he seemed far too lenient with you while I walked on pins and needles and was always trapped in those insufferable meetings with the elders for hours on end.” 

 

“I thought you enjoyed those.” 

 

Hanzo rolled his eyes “I had not thought it possible, but they were the only men I knew who were capable of blowing smoke up their own asses.” 

 

Genji snorted in amusement “You always seemed like you were so eager about working for the clan though.” 

 

“For father’s sake I made it seem as though I was tirelessly eager in my work, but there were times where even I grew weary of it. Though I realized quickly that the clan had no chance of survival if he had two willful sons. Between mother’s death, and your unruly behavior he was under a great deal of pressure and then his health began to fail. I told myself that I would do whatever I could to make his life easier, that I would shackle my fate to the clan even if it came at the expense of what I wanted.” 

 

“What did you want?”

 

“Like you, I had aspirations, dreams other than merely taking on the duties of leadership. At times I questioned if that was even my own desire and not one that had been thrust upon me.” 

 

Genji could only nod his head in acknowledgment. It made sense that he would be unsure of what he wanted out of life, he had essentially been defined from an early age as the heir to the clan. Everything he knew, everything he was, had been boiled down to that one lofty goal. He couldn’t imagine it, the weight of that burden continually crushing him, pulling him further down into an inescapable future. It must have been a constant thorn in his side to see him coming and going as he pleased with no worries except those of his own making, their father continually trying to shelter him from the disdainful glares of the elders. He looked at Hanzo, once again taking in his appearance, he really did look like their father. He had the same pronounced cheekbones, the same mouth that seemed to be set in a perpetual frown, the small crease between his brows, he was even sporting the same premature gray hair at his temples. 

 

For all his time spent struggling against it, the both of them were defined by their family, by their memories, by the past itself. Genji had thought amidst the cold mountain air, the understanding and self-acceptance swapped for loathing and anger and the love he had finally found in Zenyatta’s arms, that he had finally been able to abandon the past. That those memories of their conflict were simply that, just memories. But looking at his brother's face, seeing the small creases around his eyes, his mouth set into a deep frown, the dated clothing he wore, he realized neither one of them were free of it. Though they had escaped the confines of the castle, set out onto new paths for themselves, neither one of them were truly free of the clan. It still had them in its vice-like grip, a chokehold that held them by the minds and their very blood. He suddenly felt ridiculous for thinking it would be so easy, that just by leaving Hanamura or destroying the clan the first time that it would alleviate him of it. 

 

He looked out the window at the fog as it steadily rolled over the ocean, the surge and swell of the sea, the passing gray herons. He wondered what either of them could have them done with their lives had things been different, if their father had been an ordinary man and not the leader of one of the largest crime syndicates in the country. What would they have done, what would their aspirations be, their dreams? Even before things had devolved he hadn’t had any significant dreams, no goals to pursue. He had merely assumed that he would continue living as he always had, throwing his money around until he grew bored and would eventually conjure up some fanciful lie so he could leave altogether and continue his ways but in a different setting. In a place where no one knew him, where he could be free from his name. He looked over to see that Hanzo was staring out the window along with him, his gaze focused on two herons as they drifted through the air. He had never thought much of Hanzo during those years. He had fretted over him, worried over his well-being from the darkness of his room, but his main concern was his own pleasure, his own satisfaction. Genji had never inquired as to whether he had wanted more for his life than merely acting as head of the clan. Cruel as it was, he had never really cared and now he realized how deeply their wounds ran, how their paths had suddenly converged in such a way that had left them both so badly scarred. They could never change what happened that night and simple apologies failed to cover the pain and misery they had both endured. But perhaps in time, they could truly begin to move forward. 

 

Hanzo was watching him with an expression he couldn’t place but he seemed to be curious as to what he was thinking. “I never really understood what you were going through”, he said slowly “I always-I’m not sure what I thought”, he confessed “I had always assumed that you were fine, that the role of the leader was something you wanted. I guess neither of us really had a chance to do what we wanted to.”

 

“You had more chances than I did”, Hanzo answered, “There were many times where I wished we could have switched places.” 

 

“You wanted to be the one with the massive hangovers?”, Genji asked teasingly. 

 

Hanzo nearly smiled, the corners of his lips quirking for a brief moment “Perhaps not that part but I wanted what you had to an extent. The freedom to do as I wished”, he said, his tone almost wistful. 

 

“You could have had it.” 

 

“It was not feasible and certainly not after father’s health began to fail”, Hanzo stopped abruptly, inhaling deeply before he spoke again. “When he passed I thought I would lead the clan as a testament to his legacy. That was my only course of action and for a time things went smoothly, but then the elders pulled me into that meeting. They clearly stated that if I was unable to bring you in line then the only honorable thing to do would be to kill you. I was horrified at the idea of it.” Genji was about to interject but Hanzo quickly cut him off. “I had not intended to do it. I grappled with the idea of trying to save what father had built for many hours in that room. You were my brother and I knew father would never want the clan to survive at the expense of your life. You appeared precisely as I was attempting to think of a way out of it. I thought perhaps we could come to some sort of agreement. But then you accused me of being the elder’s puppet, something I had already thought. Then you doubled the blow by saying that father would be ashamed of me, something I had feared for too long. I had worked so hard for so long to keep together what he had built and yet you stood there with the audacity to question me. Spending all your time tearing down the reputation that had taken years to build, never caring what happened, never once having to deal with the consequences, never once attempting to help. Something seemed to snap within me and that is when-” 

 

Hanzo cut himself off, closing his eyes as Genji put his hand on his shoulder. He attempted to shrug him off but he held onto him more firmly. “Once I had left you there I realized how heinous of a crime I had committed. I came back to see that you were gone and had assumed that one of father’s old subordinates had taken you away. I resigned myself then to live with no hope for redemption even my miserable attempts to kill off the clan were not enough to ease my guilt. I am not certain if anything will.”

 

“I would have agreed with you at one time but now...like I said things are different.” 

 

“I see that. I am curious to know what has changed things so drastically for you.”

 

Unbeknownst to Hanzo, Genji let a fond smile work its way onto his face at the thought of he and Zenyatta’s first meeting. “I met someone during the time I spent wandering through Bhutan. One of the Shambali by the name of Zenyatta”, he said affectionately. He saw Hanzo raise his eyebrows though he managed to ignore it. “I hated what I had become. My mind and heart trapped inside this cage they called my body. I didn’t want to live like this, death seemed preferable to what had happened to me. Back then, right after my surgery, the only reason I wanted to stay alive, the only thing that kept me going for all those months was knowing that I was destroying the people who had taken everything from me. To me, there was nothing else and after months of work and bloodshed I had fulfilled my task and the clan was gone. Only stragglers and old loyalists remained, taken into custody and left to rot in jail. I thought that would be enough for me but it wasn’t. After all of that, I felt hollow, life no longer had any meaning for me. I hadn’t gained anything, I was still lost, my body was still gone. I saw myself as nothing more than a tool, a means to an end for Overwatch. I knew then that I would never be the same, the person I had been had died that night on the floor and something else replaced him. 

 

I stayed like that for a long time, laboring under the weight of that knowledge. It was my truth for longer than I’d like to admit. The pain I had endured during the cyberization process and the pain of rehabilitation were both excruciating but it was nothing compared to the pain and emptiness I felt knowing I could never get back what I lost. Eventually, I left Overwatch, I was tired of trying to play the hero and I had only come here because it meant I had a chance for revenge. And without that, even though I had made friends here, I saw no reason to stay. So I left looking for some peace of mind and ended up in Bhutan one day and stumbled into Zenyatta. At first, I didn’t know what to make of him, of what he was telling me, how could he possibly understand what I was going through? I rejected what he said for awhile but...he saw me for what I was, a grieving man, lost and alone. I had done that as a way to protect myself I thought no one outside of the people here would want to be close to what I was. But he taught me that there was no reason to hate what I had become. It was different of course, but that didn’t have to a bad thing. Just because my outward appearance had changed didn’t mean that I had. He showed me that I was whole just as I am. That it was possible for me to heal, that it was alright to love myself as I was, that love didn’t have to be something barred to me”, he trailed off, clearing his throat suddenly embarrassed. He had come very close to telling him about the more tender moments the two of them had shared. 

 

Hanzo observed him, he had been entirely silent throughout his admission, not even his expression had changed. Now though he looked vaguely satisfied. “I am in his debt then”, he said quietly.

 

“What?” 

 

“Zenyatta, your mentor. He has done much for you, more than I could ever do. You seem at peace with yourself, that’s far more than I can say for how you were after father’s death or even mother’s. I am glad”, he said with the first genuine smile he had seen from him in years. 

 

“You can also find that peace of mind. It’s not too late”, Genji said earnestly.

 

“It is a nice sentiment but at this point, I don’t think it possible.”

 

“If it is for me, then it is for you”, Genji said firmly. 

 

“Perhaps”, Hanzo replied with the ghost of a smile on his face as he picked up his bow and donned his quiver. “Should you wish to continue speaking with me I will be at the shooting range”, he said as he passed, giving Genji a brief pat on the shoulder. Genji followed after him with one goal in mind and that was to show his brother, no matter how long it took that it was possible for him to move on from the guilt of his crime, that he was worthy of forgiveness. 

 

They spent several hours out on the shooting range, Genji had no desire to practice so he simply took the role of the spectator as Hanzo shot arrow after arrow, hitting each mark with unerring precision. They spoke briefly during that time about lighter subjects the weather, music, books. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them that they would try to steer clear of the past having spent so long speaking about it already. Genji was surprised at how amicable the conversation had been. Though there were still some brief misunderstandings, hastily dropped subjects, arguments that were quickly cut short. Even so, things were going better than they had been and though he didn’t expect this peace to last long and he knew they were nowhere close to fully being comfortable with each other, he went to sleep that night with the knowledge that at least they were making progress. 

 

Genji woke the next morning to the sound of gentle knocking and stumbled to the door. His head still ringing from a dream of the dragons sailing through the sky like lambent kites and his neck sore from sleeping at an odd angle. He opened the door to see Hanzo standing there, his hair down and clad in a black t-shirt and blue jeans, one of their purchases from the other day. He gave him a fleeting look of understanding before he said, “We have been summoned for a meeting.”

 

“What?”, Genji asked tiredly, still not entirely awake and his eyes bleary from sleep. 

 

His brother didn’t repeat himself, he merely gave him a half smile. “You heard me”, he answered “Now hurry and get ready, and do something about this”, he said, quickly ruffling his hair before striding down the hall. Leaving Genji to wonder when was the last time he had done that and how long this tenuous truce was going to last before it dissolved into more contemptuous bickering and thinly veiled barbs about the past. He secretly hoped it would last awhile. 

 

He arrived in the room a few moments later, his hair perfectly coiffed and his face clean from sleep. Winston and Angela were already there, as well as Tracer, D.Va, and Symmetra. “Glad to see you all here”, Winston said, almost too cheerfully. 

 

“This is about us going to Hanamura right?”, D.Va asked. 

 

“Well, yes”, Winston answered, “We wanted to know what you managed to find out.” 

 

“I thought you had called us in to be reprimanded”, Symmetra said, sounding a tad startled. 

 

“Originally we would have”, Angela replied, “But somehow you managed to evade the UN’s detection.” 

 

“Maybe they’re stretched a little thin”, Tracer suggested, “What with trying to make sure they don’t have a repeat of the omnic uprising back at King’s Row.” 

 

“The most likely answer is that the clan is outside of their detection. And even if they were they are incredibly prideful and most likely wished to save face”, Hanzo offered. 

 

“It makes sense”, Winston said, “But we were wondering if you had found out any information about the Shimada clan’s current status.” 

 

“Looks like it’s your time to shine”, Tracer announced looking between him and Hanzo. 

 

Genji nudged Hanzo lightly, he gave him a slightly annoyed look but said nothing about it. “The current leader of the clan is inexperienced”, Hanzo said finally. “It is possible he is working as a figurehead for a new group of elders or they appointed him because is one of the family. Regardless of the reason, they have lost a great deal of their followers, most likely because they have associated themselves with Talon and it is seen as a shameful act of weakness that the clan could not rebuild itself without outside aid.” 

 

“Do you know how many people are in their group now?”, Angela asked. 

 

“By my estimates at least 100 to 150 with a dwindling number of omnics serving as guards.” 

 

“So what’s our attack plan?”, D.Va inquired.

 

“I am surprised Genji has not told you yet.” 

 

“I was about to”, Genji replied “Hanzo or I will have to subdue their boss. Leadership will automatically transfer to us and we can officially break up the clan.”

 

“Why was that not thought of back when you first attempted to disband them?”, Symmetra asked curiously.

 

“There was no leader back then to wrestle control from. Otherwise, the clan’s destruction would have had a better chance of sticking.” 

 

“It is true, we have a much better chance of breaking them up permanently if it is accomplished by one of the heirs. That only leaves the question of what we are to do with the rest of them once they see Daisuke had been dispatched”, Hanzo said.

 

“We’ll arrest them of course”, Angela said quickly. 

 

Hanzo pulled a face like he thought they might be better served simply killing the remaining members but remained silent. 

 

“That sounds like a plan alright but they'll probably be expecting something now”, Tracer said. 

 

“Then the next strike will simply have to be more covert than the last and we will definitely require further assistance to achieve it”, Symmetra answered. 

 

“I am still not certain about having Overwatch involved in this affair”, Hanzo said quietly. 

 

“We’ve been over this Hanzo, we cannot do it alone”, Genji insisted “We’re going to need their help.” 

 

“I am aware”, he sighed. 

 

“So when can we get going?”, Genji asked, eager to get started. 

 

“The other agents will be getting back from King’s Row tomorrow. Once they get in and give us their debrief we can begin putting together a strategy. I'll definitely need you two to give us your input as the best way to go about it. And of course, we’ll also need to put in some basic combat training but we should be able to get into Hanamura by the end of the month”, Winston replied. 

 

“That’s 2 weeks away, do you really think we’ll be able to make that deadline?”, Angela asked. 

 

“I think we can, if we wait too long we’re bound to see more problems because of it”, Winston answered “And we should be able to get clearance from the UN much faster now. We’ll have another meeting tomorrow but you all should get some rest before then”, he said, and with that, they were dismissed. 

 

He and Hanzo went their separate ways after the meeting. The bond they were trying to forge was new, and it was proving to take a lot of energy to build, so he went off in search of something to do after realizing he was in need of some space. He assumed Hanzo was feeling the same way but it looked as if he couldn’t easily find the space he wanted because he always seemed to be tracked down by one of the other agents. From what he could tell from the past few days the others seemed to be eager for Hanzo to join their ranks or at the very least engage in the activities around the base. Even the people who were familiar with their histories like Tracer and Winston were nothing but supportive and friendly. Hanzo greeted them courteously but didn’t seem to know how to proceed beyond that, he had even witnessed D.Va trying to coerce him into a game. He had politely declined which had prompted her to pout slightly but she had let him go saying she would wear him down eventually. He supposed he felt out of place, a stranger amongst them. He had been in a similar situation not long ago and although Hanzo was more prone to play the role of the hermit and less likely to engage in overly long conversation he was still good company when given the chance. He was sure in time he would find his place here. 

 

The only one who seemed to question his presence was Angela. He had suspected that considering she had seen the full extent of his handiwork. Still, she treated him kindly, though all her replies were rather terse. She only asked him about it when he found himself wandering by the mess hall in desperate need of something to do. She welcomed him inside offering him a cup of tea and a plate of lightly spiced tea cakes that he gently declined. When she finally made her inquiry about how he felt with Hanzo here he didn’t expect the quickness to which he replied. “I’m fine with it”, he assured her “At first I didn’t know if it was a good idea to bring him but now I’m sure I want him to be here.” 

 

“Sorry if it was nosey of me to ask”, Angela said, setting her cup aside “I just wanted to be sure you were alright. I’m sure it must still be difficult to have him here after everything that happened between you two.” 

 

“I know, but I think we can make this work. Even if he doesn’t decide to stay I’ll feel better knowing that at least we’re on good terms again. It will definitely take some adjustment but I think he’ll be able to get used to being here.” 

 

She nodded “As long as you’re fine with it”, she said firmly. “Have you been managing to get along?”

 

“So far, but we’ve still had some arguments.”

 

“I would imagine so, a lot has happened. I guess that’s why your brother seems so contrite.” 

 

“He will be for awhile”, Genji said, with a kind of sad smile “Also I think he’s a little out of his depth here. He’s essentially spent years alone with no one to help him.”

 

“That sounds familiar”, Angela commented.

 

“I guess so”, Genji said rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m just hoping he’ll learn to loosen up soon.”

 

“I’m sure he will. He only just arrived here give him some time.”

 

“Right”, Genji answered, thinking to the phrase that Zenyatta was so fond of repeating; “It will take time.” 

 

Zenyatta and the others arrived the next day just as the rain was beginning to fall, in all the excitement he had almost forgotten that they would be returning. So when Zenyatta arrived in his doorway that morning, after he had finished meditating, he was struck with that same feeling which he hadn’t been able to accurately name a few weeks ago. Zenyatta quickly came into his arms, his bag forgotten by the still open door, Genji brought him into a tight embrace kissing him as though they had been apart for far longer than 5 days. When they finally pulled apart Zenyatta kissed him again, with such force that he nearly gasped. “You seem surprised”, he commented warmly. 

 

“I guess I am”, Genji answered breathlessly. 

 

“I have missed you terribly over the course of my trip. It seemed only natural to greet you this way. Though I could stop if you find this disagreeable.”

 

“The only thing that’s disagreeable is that you were gone for so long.” 

 

“Sadly it was out of my control, had it been my choice you would have been there alongside me. Though I fear given your propensity for mischief we would not have achieved much”, he said teasingly.

 

“I do not have a propensity for mischief”, Genji protested.

 

“Hm, impishness then.”

 

“That’s the same thing.”

 

“Do not take that as a slight against your character Genji, it is just one of the many things about you that I find endearing”, Zenyatta answered, gently running his fingers through his hair.

 

Genji let his eyes slip close at that gentle touch. “I missed you”, he breathed, his voice thick with passion.

 

Zenyatta kissed him again before reluctantly leaving his side to go close the door as Genji laid himself out on the bed. They spent the next several hours reaffirming their feelings for each other through long minutes of tender caresses and an outpouring of admiration and praise that left Genji feeling overwhelmed with joy and Zenyatta unable to do anything but stroke his head as he continued his declarations of love and devotion. Genji was beside himself he realized, pressing gentle kisses to the back of his hand as he poured out his heart. Telling him just how deeply he loved him, relating to him the very minutiae of his feelings, every detail he could remember, and all of them uttered with a desperate passion in the darkening room. Zenyatta listened to all of it silently until Genji’s throat was sore and he had run out of words to speak. He answered him fondly with his own affirmation of his love, his desires, his hopes for their future together. He laid bare so much of what he loved about him, from the way his eyes looked when he smiled, to the way he moved in battle that Genji was almost shy from the appreciation and embarrassed that he had grown hard again just from the praise alone. Obviously, Zenyatta didn’t mind, merely saying that he had promised to repay him and that now seemed to be the perfect time as he spent the next hour lavishing attention to every inch of his body before he finally took him in hand. After a short break where Zenyatta attempted to tell him how the trip went only to be interrupted by his fervent pawing until Genji was able to reciprocate. He promptly dropped to the floor as Zenyatta remained sitting on the bed and Genji refused to get up until Zenyatta was thoroughly satisfied and his knees were aching. Zenyatta gently pulled him into bed not long after that announcing that he should get some rest. Genji easily obliged, quickly falling asleep in that familiar embrace.

 

The following morning he and Zenyatta strolled into the mess hall only to find Jesse was there with a cup of coffee shooting them both a knowing smile that Genji valiantly ignored. The others filed in soon after them including Hanzo who quickly stationed himself by the teapot and didn’t move until he had a steaming cup in hand. Genji briefly wondered if Hanzo had any inkling as to the nature of he and Zenyatta’s relationship. He supposed he might considering they were right across the hall from each other and he had never been known to be a quiet lover. But if he did have his suspicions he made no mention of it, he only gave them both a quick nod before sitting next to him with his tea. 

 

The debriefing for Zenyatta and the other’s mission passed relatively quickly as Winston was adamant that he and Hanzo relay to them the information about the clan. The other agents didn’t seem overly shocked by the news that Talon had revived the clan but they were fervent in their desire to stop them. Within the hour Winston along with the help of Angela had already set up a training schedule and set up several meeting times with the UN to get the necessary clearance. As much as it pained him the only thing to do now was to wait. Genji could only hope they would get approved quickly, though he had his suspicions from the look on Angela and the other’s faces, as they scheduled the meetings and made the appropriate calls that whether they got clearance or not they were planning to head out to Hanamura regardless. 

 

Still, the tedious dialogues between them and the UN continued. But when they weren’t arguing back and forth over outdated protocols and looking over archaic papers for some type of leverage they spent their time training. Without any warning he and the others found themselves thrust into a rigorous training regimen that had made some of the procedures Morrison had given them back in Overwatch’s golden era look like child’s play. Despite his brother’s reluctance, he was somehow pulled into training along with them. Since he and Hanzo would be the ones to go after Daisuke they rationalized they would have to be in perfect sync with each other, though that proved to be just as hard as he assumed it would be. The first few days of practice were understandably disastrous and despite what he had deemed to be a tentative truce they still were found angrily snapping at each other and had to be physically pulled apart by a concerned looking Reinhardt. They spent the rest of the day avoiding each other though the time apart seemed to soothe their wounds as he went to his room that night to make amends and Hanzo too gave him his apologies. They were back on the shooting range the following afternoon, trying to work through years of resentment and anger on the battlefield as they dodged shots from the bots and leapt over obstacles. As the days passed and the discourse with the UN dragged on they began to fall into step with each other. Not so much out of necessity but by an inexplicable force of nature. They anticipated each other’s moves until it became like second nature and they found themselves truly cooperating. Genji didn’t dare to hope that things would stay that way, there were bound to be setbacks as there already had been. But just because things were that way now certainly didn’t mean they would remain that way, a concept he had intimately dealt with these past few months.

 

After what seemed to have been countless hours of practice that culminated in them successfully taking out a small group of drones Genji proclaimed that he was taking a break and sat down on the shooting range. He watched from afar as Hanzo, who seemed entirely unaffected by the hours of uninterrupted training, continued to shoot at the bots never once missing his shot. Jesse strolled by sometime later and stopped to watch as his brother continued his practice, the twang of his bow resounding through the air like the steady beat of a drum. “So that’s the brother”, Jesse said somewhat quietly. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Kinda surprised to see him here after what went down between ‘ya. You sure you’re ok with it?” 

 

“I am. He came by accident but he’s still here because I want him to be. I’d like the chance to resolve things with him if I can.” 

 

“I get you. That’s mighty civil of ‘ya.” 

 

“I suppose so, but really it’s not even about being civil. It’s more that I’ve come to realize that if you’re willing to change and really make amends for what you’ve done then you should get a second chance.” 

 

“I hear ‘ya, shit I know I was glad for it. Getting to choose between rotting in jail or actually doing something with my life. Hell, those kinds of chances don’t come around every day.” 

 

“It’s true, I very well could have well died that night back in Hanamura. But Reyes and Angela gave me the chance to live, and with Zenyatta, I was whole again. Now I have this chance with Hanzo, I have to take it and see how it goes.” 

 

Jesse nodded before clapping him on the shoulder “Well, here’s hoping your work ain’t cut out for you.” 

 

“I hope so too”, Genji answered as they continued to watch Hanzo shoot at the bots. Jesse let loose a low appreciative whistle as his arrows hit their marks. “You could always try your hand at beating his record”, Genji offered.

 

“Naw, wouldn’t wanna embarrass him”, Jesse replied, teasingly.

 

“I wouldn’t let him hear that if I were you. He might just set up a challenge.”

 

“Doesn’t sound too bad, can’t any be worse than going toe to toe with you.”

 

“What do you mean by that?”

 

“I mean ‘ya play dirty.”

 

“I do not”, Genji protested dramatically.

 

Jesse snorted “You played any dirtier and you’d be slinging mud instead of those shurikens.”

 

“What about you? At least when we compete I’m not sacrificing focus for style.”

 

“Don’t remember ever doing that.”

 

“The last time we sparred you flipped your gun in the air before reloading it.”

 

“Still not ringing a bell”, Jesse replied with a smug smile.

 

“Then allow me to jog your memory”, Genji answered, attempting to elbow him in the side. Jesse quickly twisted out of the way and they proceeded to run around the far end of the shooting range exchanging playful blows until Hanzo came over to quiet them. 

 

He and Jesse spent the rest of the afternoon idling throughout the watchpoint until it grew late and he finally retired to his room. Zenyatta was already there waiting for him with a cup of chamomile tea and a book in hand. Genji took it from him happily and planted a kiss on his forehead. Apparently, he had been helping Winston do some routine maintenance on Athena’s systems and then had engaged in some meditation with Symmetra and D.Va. “They both did quite well for their first time”, he commented happily. 

 

“Anyone would do better than me”, Genji remarked, removing his faceplate.

 

“You also did well your first time. Though no one could blame you for having trouble, you had endured much and had many feelings and thoughts to work through.”

 

“You’re right”, he replied, “And then after awhile I just had one thought to work through.”

 

“What was that?”, Zenyatta asked curiously.

 

“How I could make you mine”, Genji said smugly.

 

“Admittedly it’s rather disheartening to know that I was a source of distraction to your spiritual growth even back then.”

 

“You actually helped it a great deal”, Genji assured him.

 

“I suppose.”

 

Genji abandoned his tea on the desk and walked over to where Zenyatta was sitting. He placed his hands on his shoulders before kissing him briefly. “Without you I wouldn’t be half of what I am now. I would still be lost.”

 

“As always you flatter me Genji, but you would have found your way.”

 

“I wouldn’t have, not without you”, he replied firmly “I wouldn’t be as happy as I am without you.”

 

“I feel the same”, Zenyatta answered warmly.

 

“Then accept my flattery”, Genji urged.

 

“I suppose I will for now.”

 

“You’re too humble.” 

 

“They say humility is the solid foundation of all virtues.”

 

“Confucius said that.”

 

“He did indeed, perhaps you could present a better piece of advice in its place?”

 

“I can.”

 

“Then, by all means, I would love to hear it.”

 

“Kiss me”, Genji said with an impish grin.

 

Zenyatta chuckled “You present a compelling suggestion one I’d be hard pressed to deny”, he said before obliging him. 

 

Genji was able to kiss him a few more times before he pulled him into bed. They sat huddled close together, nestled in a cocoon of blankets in an effort to stave off the chill. The central heating system had broken down right as it had grown colder and although Winston had assured them that it would be fixed soon that had been several days ago and it was still in a state of disrepair. Genji didn’t mind though as it worked as a good excuse for them to curl up together at every possible opportunity. “How is your training with your brother going?”, Zenyatta asked as he laid down next to him. 

 

“Fine I guess”, Genji answered, “I’m not sure if we’re making much progress though.”

 

Zenyatta hummed “Has anything changed since you began?”

 

“We don’t argue as much as we used to.” 

 

“That is progress then.”

 

“Yeah, slow progress.” 

 

“It matters little how slowly you go as long as you don’t stop. You both deserve a chance to heal after what’s happened. I know soon you will find yourself where you want to be, where the two of you deserve to be.” 

 

“I hope so.” 

 

“I am sure that you will in time”, Zenyatta answered as Genji pulled him closer. He was certain that they would as well but more than anything he was actually willing to work towards that goal, a goal that now shone brightly on the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos, they always mean a lot to me! Sorry, this last chapter took a little longer than expected but there was a lot to go through. Hanzo and Genji are on their way to working through their problems but as shown in this chapter it's slow going as there were some setbacks. Just to clarify, early in the chapter when Genji was going to surrender he was going to try to stall the guards so he could get them out of there but of course, he wasn't going to let them know that. Anyway, we're getting close to the end here so I don't know how long the next couple of chapters will take but I hope to get them out in a timely fashion. As always thanks for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji contemplates his future as he and the others take on the clan.

After 2 weeks of insistent pleading and irate messages between them and the UN, they were finally granted clearance to venture into Hanamura. Genji was frustrated that it had taken that long but his annoyance was abated by the fact that the clan and Talon had been fairly quiet since their short confrontation several weeks ago. As suspicious as he was about their sudden lack of activity he didn’t have much time to think about it as he and the other agents spent most of their time training. He and Hanzo had finally managed to fall in step with each other, effectively anticipating the others movements with astonishing accuracy and guarding each other’s blind spots when necessary. The plan they had formulated was a fairly simple one, but the merit of it lied in the details and how well he and Hanzo would be able to work together. 

 

He knew from previous experiences that no matter how well planned things were there were bound to be mishaps. He, Hanzo, Angela, and Winston had sat for hours looking at a layout of the castle, formulating plans and countermeasures until they were fairly certain that they had covered most of their bases. They would need to secure and clear the perimeter of the castle dispatching any guards as quietly as they could. Once that was done it would be up to him and Hanzo to get into the castle and deal with Daisuke. It was by no means a foolproof plan, there was still so much they didn’t know, unseen variables that kept him awake at night with dread. But he tried to stay optimistic, even though he doubted his own performance and still had his concerns about whether or not they would actually be able to achieve their goal. 

 

Though Hanzo’s dragons seemed to be more subdued these days they still had momentary lapses of disobedience. Snarling and roaring as they rampaged over the rocks and startled the gulls though he always was able to call them back before they did any real harm. If something went wrong it would be up to him to finish things and despite their new found comfort in each other’s presence his dragon still remained unseen. It frustrated him to no end and he often found himself stomping away from the shooting range completely embittered and making the short walk back to his quarters to sit and angrily tap his fingers against his leg as he tried to calm himself down. On one such occasion, Zenyatta returned to the room to see him sitting him on the bed his fingers tapping out a steady rhythm against his leg as he stared in agitation at the wall. “I am familiar with that look”, Zenyatta commented as he came over to sit beside him. 

 

“I know”, Genji said with a frustrated sigh “You saw it a lot when we first met.”

 

“Yes, though I hope the reason for your frustration now is not the same as it once was.”

 

“No, it’s not, you don’t have to worry about that”, he answered with a half-hearted smile. “I’m just annoyed. No matter what I do the dragon won’t come to me. If something goes wrong and Hanzo’s unable to finish the job I won’t be able to do anything.” 

 

Zenyatta didn’t say anything he merely took him by the hand, his fingers smoothing along his palm and caressing his wrist. “I understand your irritation Genji but your anger will not ease your mind nor will it make your dragon appear.” 

 

“That’s the thing, he only seems to come when I’m angry and now he won’t even do that. So what’s wrong with me?” 

 

“There is nothing wrong with you. You have been conflicted over a great many things for a long time now. I suspect he appeared before because of your righteous anger but it was not a conscious effort was it?” 

 

He thought for a moment “No.” 

 

“There is a possibility that you have forgotten how to call upon him without anger to guide you.” 

 

“I had thought that too, but the last time I spoke to him he said he didn’t appear because being around Hanzo had my thoughts in turmoil. But I can’t wait until we're completely fine with each other. I need to be able to summon him now.” 

 

Zenyatta looked thoughtful “Perhaps you are trying too hard”, he said after several moments of silence.

 

“What?”

 

“You are putting any undue amount of pressure on yourself. Forcing yourself past the point of exhaustion in your search to succeed. I believe that may be hindering your ability to call him.” 

 

“Maybe.” 

 

“Would he appear if you were in dire need?” 

 

“I think he would.”

 

“It might be best if you take a break from trying to summon him. I am sure when you return to it you will have a fresh perspective on the matter and will be able to call him forth regardless of your unresolved issues with your brother.” 

 

“I would hope so”, Genji said, still uncertain. 

 

Zenyatta didn’t answer he merely slipped his fingers into his hair and gently massaged his scalp before placing a light kiss on his forehead. “It is only natural for you to be uncertain but don’t allow that to hinder your progress”, he said softly. Genji gave him a quick nod, kissing him back along the seam of his faceplate before he was able to slip away. 

 

He tried to take that advice to heart in the next couple of practice sessions and though it did seem to help his seemingly unending frustration it did nothing to deter his anxiety. Nor did it put an end to the nightmare that plagued him of how things could go wrong. Small missteps that quickly escalated into bodies lying motionless on the ground, the crazed eyes of a red dragon, and the shattered remains of a familiar golden orb. When those visions came he would always find himself jolting awake in a cold sweat, caught in a blind panic as he grabbed for Zenyatta, who always seemed ready to soothe him back into slumber with gentle words and a firm hand on his back. Still, despite everything he was eager to get started so he could put this wretched business behind him and begin a new chapter in his life. 

 

Ever since that simple band of gold had caught his eye Genji had been contemplating his proposal. He had yet to tell anyone of his plan though, even Jesse was yet to be privy to such sensitive information and if Zenyatta suspected anything he hadn’t brought it up. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep it private for very long that sooner or later the overwhelming nature of his passion would bring his secret tumbling forth. But he realized he didn’t care, even if they remained as part of Overwatch after their marriage. Even if their future for the next few years had to be hijacked by their responsibilities to the world. Even if the image that shone so brightly in his mind, of a house closed in by trees with Zenyatta quietly tending a garden out back as he sat on the patio, had to be waylaid by their duties. He shook his head it was beyond idyllic what he was imagining, almost saccharine in the details he added. But he didn’t care. As long as they were together it would be worth the wait. He managed to put aside such tender thoughts for the next couple days, all imaginings of his proposal gone from his mind and replaced by procedure and protocols of combat. 

 

It had completely slipped his mind until Hanzo brought it up one morning when they were finished with their training. His brother set his bow aside after several minutes of uninterrupted shots, propping it against the wall as he stretched his back. He stopped for a moment turned and asked: “What is Zenyatta to you?” It caught him off guard, even though he had been expecting the question to come ever since Hanzo had nearly caught them about to kiss in the rec room a few days ago. He regained his composure enough to look over to see Hanzo gazing at him curiously. “What do you mean?”, he asked finally, trying to deflect the question altogether. 

 

“You heard me”, Hanzo answered, sounding annoyed. “The two of you share a history together, you spend the majority of your time together when we are not engaged in training, and you share a room with him.” 

 

“So?”, Genji said. 

 

“So, I assumed you two are in a relationship.” 

 

It seemed strange and mildly embarrassing to be discussing this subject with his brother but he gave him a stilted nod before answering “Yes, we are.” 

 

He had expected an argument with any number of reasons why they shouldn’t be together lobbed at him or even an appalled look on his face. But Hanzo remained silent, looking thoughtful “How did you manage that?”, he asked. 

 

“What?” 

 

“I have spoken with Zenyatta briefly. He seems to be a well-rounded individual with a great deal of spiritual wisdom. How on earth did you manage to keep him interested?” 

 

“Hanzo, do you really want to know that?”, he asked with a smug grin. 

 

Hanzo pulled a face as if he were about to be ill “Forget I mentioned it”, he said with a wave of his hand. 

 

Genji threw his head back in laughter but managed to sober up quickly. “Honestly though I don’t know what I did to get so lucky. He’s been so kind to me, probably more than I deserved. He accepted me completely when I thought no one else would. I never thought I would come to love someone as much I love him.” 

 

“I never thought I would hear you say that”, Hanzo said sounding thoroughly awed.

 

“Is it really so hard to imagine?”

 

“It seemed doubtful you would commit to anyone considering the multitude of men and women you brought in and out of the castle.” 

 

“I didn’t bring that many people home.” 

 

“You brought more than enough, and sometimes not even to the appropriate room.” 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

“You drunkenly brought one of your dates to my room. I came out of the shower only to see you about to pull each other’s clothes off”, he said wrinkling his nose in distaste.

 

“Oh yeah, Hatsuharu. I think he may have had a thing for you after that, he wouldn’t stop asking about you.” 

 

“I am aware, he came by the castle a few times. 

 

“What? I didn’t know that.” 

 

“I believe that was the point. Besides I was not interested in him, he was nothing but a braggart. 

 

“Sounds familiar”, Genji said teasingly. 

 

“It is not bragging if it’s the truth”, Hanzo answered seriously. 

 

Genji held back another laugh while Hanzo picked up the remains of his arrows. “I am glad for you Genji”, he said softly “You seem to have chosen an excellent partner. My only hope is that you do not bore him with your mischief.” 

 

“He would never get bored of me. Besides he likes my mischief.” 

 

“It is good to know that someone does”, Hanzo replied as Genji attempted to elbow him only to end up striking at the air as he sidestepped out of the way. 

 

They had been getting along better these past few weeks. Though he couldn’t say they had reached a place where the past was entirely forgotten yet but every conversation that didn’t end in snide remarks and shouting he counted as a small triumph. Hanzo too seemed to be adjusting slowly to the routine of the watchpoint. He had quickly shed his traditional kyudo-gi in favor of more modern clothes and could actually be seen engaging with the other agents though he had yet to take up Hana on her offers of gaming sessions. But he did find him exchanging words with Satya over several older novels that rested on the communal book shelf and he readily helped with the chores around the base. He had even helped Genji with the cooking several times much to Jesse’s teasing “Looks like something’s actually gonna get done around here”, he said on one such occasion. “Last time your brother was in here we almost ended up going hungry.” Hanzo smirked at his words as Genji attempted to shove him out of their space “Not surprising”, he replied good-naturedly “Genji has always been given to distraction.” 

 

They had fallen into routine so readily that he was almost dismayed when Zenyatta informed him, one evening after they had finished meditating, that they would be leaving for Hanamura in 4 days time. Genji knew it was coming so he saw no reason to feel the shock that suddenly bore down heavily on his body. Even so, the thought of returning to the castle filled him with dread, but now for entirely different reasons. He drew close to Zenyatta nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck and then proceeded to kiss him while pulling him closer still. “What’s troubling you?”, Zenyatta asked gently after a few more minutes of amorous caresses. 

 

“What? I can’t just want to kiss you?”, he asked half-heartedly. 

 

“You are more than welcome to continue as you have been, but I wonder if what I said has caused you worry.” 

 

“I shouldn't be worried”, Genji replied firmly, feeling foolish. 

 

“It is fine if you are. You do not have to validate why you feel the way you do.” 

 

Genji remained silent his mind returning to the last time a mission had him on edge “How do you feel about returning to Hanamura?”, he asked softly. 

 

“I am fine but I would be remiss not to mention that I am concerned about what we might find there.” 

 

“Me too”, Genji admitted, “I know I shouldn’t be worried and that you’re more than capable of handling yourself, but since we don’t have any idea what they’re planning I just want you to try to stay safe.” 

 

“And to think you once called me a mind reader, I was thinking precisely the same thing.” 

 

“I guess it’s rubbing off on me”, he said kissing him again. 

 

“Perhaps some of my focus will as well”, Zenyatta answered, returning the gesture. 

 

“I doubt it”, Genji said with a laugh. 

 

Admittedly he wasn’t the only one with misgivings about the plan. At one point Jesse and some of the others had admitted to hoping for more information to come to light but quickly realized that they most likely wouldn’t get it before they were slated to leave. It wasn’t just the unknown that had them concerned but it was the nature of their quarry. Their seemingly unlimited resources, the astonishing speed and precision of the omnics they had enslaved, the ruthlessness of their guards and then the dragons themselves. The very idea of them and their predilection for battle had been supplemented by the accounts of Lena and Hana, as well as he and Hanzo’s own personal experiences. Whether it was anxiousness or the mere notion that they may be forced to stare down the maddened eyes of those ancient spirits, the information on the clan had seemed to whip the rest of the agents into a kind of frenzy of overtraining and extreme precaution. The time spent over preparing seemed to put them at ease, save for Hanzo, who even as the day of their departure grew closer, was still demanding further intel that they had no time nor the current resources to retrieve. On the 3rd day before their departure, he voiced his disapproval again as he and Jesse joined him to train. “We could be walking into an ambush”, Hanzo said as he watched Jesse take down a small number of bots, his arms crossed and his forehead wrinkled in thought. 

 

“Wouldn’t be the first time”, Jesse commented off-handedly. 

 

“Yes, except I doubt you’ve encountered a situation where you were staring down a multitude of dragons whipped into a frenzy by their own bloodlust. And that is exactly where we will be if we are not careful”, Hanzo said, still looking concerned. 

 

“It didn’t seem like there were many of our relatives left in the clan the last time we were there”, Genji said.

 

“We cannot make that assumption simply because only one dragon attacked us. To do so would be beyond foolhardy.” 

 

“Then what do you propose we do?”, Genji asked, beginning to lose patience. 

 

“It would be better if we had more information.” 

 

“Well we don’t, so we have to work with what we have.” 

 

Hanzo sighed “There is no need to get agitated.” 

 

“I’m not, I’m just saying that we already have our plan. Unless you have a better idea we should just leave things as they are.” 

 

Hanzo gave him a strange look. “We have lives other than our own to worry about we must have a plan for every instance. Just because you are used to throwing yourself in head first and hoping for the best does not mean we can take those chances with the others.” 

 

Genji felt his face grow hot in anger “We don’t have time to think out everything and we can’t be like you never knowing when to make a move. If you don’t like the plan then don’t come.” 

 

“Hey now fellas maybe you oughta cool it”, Jesse said firmly. 

 

Hanzo directed his gaze at Jesse for a fraction of a second and then turned to observe Genji with something akin to disappointment in his eyes. “Perhaps you are right. We should speak of this again later”, he said, and with that, he turned on his heel and left the shooting range. 

 

Genji watched him leave, the anger he had initially felt completely gone. “I thought we were getting better at this”, he said, frustrated. 

 

“‘Ya are”, Jesse replied, “A couple weeks ago and I would’ve had to pull you two off each other.” 

 

Genji sighed “I know”, he said. “It’s not like I don’t get where he’s coming from but we just don’t have the time to gather all that information.”

 

“Yeah, sure would make our job a little easier though.” 

 

“Yes, but it’s not going to happen. Hanzo is used to working in the shadows, striking when everything is perfectly aligned. But we can’t wait, we have to take this chance. I wish he would stop being so stubborn and just let it go.”

 

“Looks like that’s gonna be mighty tough. I guess the hard-headedness runs in the family.”

 

“What are you saying?”

 

“I’m saying you’re both pretty damn stubborn.” 

 

“What? I am not.”

 

“Wanna bet on that?” 

 

“There’s no point in betting since I’m right.” 

 

“Not so sure about that”, Jesse answered stubbing his cigarillo out with his foot. Genji shook his head at his gentle ribbing but he felt a stab of guilt come over him as he followed him inside, their training apparently left for later. He had to wonder if Hanzo was indeed right and they would end up walking into something they had no plan for. 

 

“That is always a possibility”, Zenyatta said when he voiced his concerns to him later that night. After dinner, he had slinked into their room feeling sullen with the events of the afternoon and he had drawn Zenyatta into his embrace. He had seemed to sense that something was wrong but had let him simply sit there and silently massage his shoulders and run his fingers down the length of his arms before speaking again. “I understand both you and you brother’s hesitance but we cannot allow ourselves to be frozen with fear or we will never move forward. We walk into the unknown but it does not have to be a frightening experience. The outcome is not preordained.” 

 

“I guess that's true.” 

 

“Though no one could fault you or Hanzo for being cautious, especially in regards to the clan. Should a problem arise I know you will find the best course of action to deal with it.” 

 

Genji didn’t reply he merely kissed him once before declaring that he needed to go speak with Hanzo. He strode across the hall and knocked on the door twice only to elicit no response. Hana walked by a moment later a water bottle in hand and readily informed him that Hanzo was out on the shooting range. He thanked her before quickly walking outside to see him sitting at the cliff’s edge watching the tide slowly came in. “What are you doing out here?”, Genji asked. 

 

“Trying to get some air”, Hanzo stated, his eyes still fixed on the water below. “I am sorry about earlier”, he said. 

 

“So am I”, Genji replied rubbing the back of his neck, feeling more than a tad sheepish. “I wish this was easier”, he said, a little sadly. 

 

“There is no way it can be”, Hanzo answered “We have spent a great deal of time apart and we did not leave each other on good terms. It is only natural that things between us are so strained though you are not making them any easier.” 

 

“ _Me?_ ” 

 

“Yes, you are far too prone to overreacting.” 

 

“Right, like you haven’t done anything wrong.”

 

“Genji.” 

 

“What do you want me to say? We can't possibly wait until everything’s perfectly in place we have to strike while we have the chance to.” 

 

“I am aware of that.” 

 

“Then why are you making such a big deal out of this?” 

 

Hanzo took a deep shuddering breath, his gaze never once leaving the tide as it slowly engulfed the low sitting rocks below. “I do not want any more blood on my hands, least of all your’s. If something should go wrong-”, he cut himself off. “I cannot make it much clearer than that”, he said abruptly, looking annoyed. 

 

Genji was struck by that quiet admission, he understood then his tireless insistence for more detailed information, his lack of enthusiasm for every proposed plan. He shook his head in dismay “You could have just said something”, he said quietly. 

 

“I just did”, Hanzo answered. 

 

“You know what I mean”, Genji replied, rolling his eyes. 

 

“It has been hard enough to speak about anything at all, least of all this. Unlike you, I am not used to running my mouth.” 

 

“I do not run my mouth.” 

 

“Not much”, Hanzo replied with a smug smile on his face.

 

Genji groaned dramatically “Why do you have to be so cruel? I’m not sure I can go on”, he said leaning heavily on his brother’s shoulder to the point that they nearly both collapsed to the ground. Hanzo grumbled as he pushed him off but still had the same smirk on his face as he smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt.

 

After that brief exchange and a few playful blows the two of them sat on the shooting range, the scattered remains of Hanzo’s arrows from their earlier bout creating haphazard trails along the ground behind them. They watched as the first stars came into view, thanks to a few short but informative lessons Genji could finally make out a few of the constellations. Though he was content to simply admire those glistening heavenly bodies rather than to try to analyze them or dissect the patterns of their movement. He and Hanzo watched as the sky darkened and the breeze grew cool, the watchpoint growing still as night fell. His brother sat beside him looking far more relaxed than before, though the unsettling question of what they would be forced to face when they left for Hanamura still hung in the air between them. Genji managed to ignore it instead focusing on something that had been nagging at the back of his mind for several days. “What are we going to do with the castle?”, he asked suddenly. 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

“I mean what are we going to do once the clan has been taken out? What do we do with the castle? Just let it stand abandoned?” 

 

Hanzo looked thoughtful “What would you have us do with it?”, he asked quietly. 

 

Genji looked at him, Hanzo was staring at him intently his features almost completely lost to the darkness. 

 

“I don’t know”, he answered. There had been times when he had sat in the med bay angry and resentful where he wished he had the strength to physically pull the castle from its foundation, to light a single match and let the fire slowly consume it until it was nothing more than a heaping pile of smoldering wood and ash. As if the fire would somehow cleanse him of his hatred and burn away those painful memories. But now he wasn’t sure. Of course, there were awful memories trapped in the wood of those rooms but there were good ones as well, memories that were worth preserving, things that still stood there that had sentimental value for him. “Maybe we should donate it to the city”, he said finally “Let someone manage it, maybe make it into a historical monument.” 

 

“I had considered that as well”, Hanzo answered, “It does not seem right to let it fall into disrepair and I am not sure if I could destroy it.” 

 

Genji nodded “I guess we’ll figure it out after the job’s done”, he replied. They remained there watching as the stars stretched to every corner of the sky until he woke to Hanzo gently shaking him awake, not realizing he had fallen asleep in the first place. 

 

The days that led up to the mission felt long and almost painfully drawn out. As he busied himself with training and his daily chores around base he found himself caught between the conflicting desires of his heart. Ultimately he knew what he had to do but even with that knowledge it did little to banish the myriad of far more enticing ideas of leaving altogether, packing his things and whisking Zenyatta somewhere far away from the conflict. Finding that sun-drenched house, perhaps somewhere near the sea, planting that garden he had seen so vividly in his mind, truly chasing the future he so perfectly envisioned for himself. But he knew his duty and he knew that his attempts to seduce Zenyatta away from their goals would only lead to an all too calm and rational debate of why they had to stay. 

 

Nevertheless, he had tried it a few times, breathily suggesting that they run away somewhere overwhelmed with the idea of returning back to the castle and fearful that something inevitably would go wrong. But Zenyatta heard none of it, he merely laid there kissing him and giving him a long list of why they had to stay with tender words and gentle caresses. In the end, he was left defeated and he felt that if he tried again he would end up with the same results. Instead, he spent his time preoccupied with training and trying to summon the dragon, still not entirely able to shake the notion that he would need his aid. So on the second to last day before they had to leave he found himself out on the shooting range trying to understand how he used to do it. But he found to his annoyance that he couldn’t remember how, despite the fact that it had come to him so naturally to him back then.

 

The dragon had appeared to him 3 years after his brother’s. That had never bothered him although the elders seemed to make a grand show out of informing him that he received his spirit the latest of anyone in the past 10 decades. He ignored them as he always did even though they and even his father on several occasions had chastised him for summoning his dragon merely for show. As usual, he had simply laughed it off saying if his spirit didn’t want to come he surely didn’t have to. Now he wished he would appear as frequently as he did back then. He had to wonder if this was some form of payback for all the many times he had called upon him when there was no danger to face. He didn’t dwell on that fear for long because after several failed attempts to call him he gave up and laid himself out on the shooting range, the birds walking along the cliff’s edge eyeing him curiously. He closed his eyes thinking back to the first time he had ever appeared. It had happened one evening as he was about to fall asleep, a pinprick of green light slowly settled at the end of his bed. Then suddenly he heard a loud crash as if a clap of thunder had entered the castle and short bursts of color and light erupted throughout the room. From that display, several beads of light rippled and came together and the dragon, with its body, only half-formed slowly emerged from that pool of color and rippling light. Genji had bolted out of bed by now and had crowded himself into the corner. His father and Hanzo had warned him of the dragon’s coming, that his first appearance was usually a frightening thing to behold but spectacular in its own right. He agreed belatedly with that statement but the most pressing thing he felt was a rampant fear as he clenched his teeth and watched as the dragon finished forming. Removing its limber body from what looked to be a never ending well of colors he couldn’t describe but that disappeared as soon as he was free. 

 

He eyed Genji, sizing him up and slowly he crept closer until he was eye to eye with him and gently pressed his nose against his stomach. He raised a cautious hand and patted him once his fingers tentatively scratching him between the eyes. This seemed to be the appropriate course of action because seconds later the dragon reared back and had enclosed him gently in his coils before dissolving into greenish wisps of smoke. Later that week they solidified their bond by the way of the tattoo on his back, an emerald dragon sailing through golden lightning and swirling storm clouds. 

 

He gave up his pursuit of his dragon the day before they were supposed to leave, dejected and thoroughly exhausted. Winston had urged them to not to train so they could save their strength for the upcoming mission. In true contrarian fashion, he found Hanzo out on the shooting range late that afternoon as he walked back to his and Zenyatta’s room with a cup of oil for him. He saw him launching arrows at multiple targets and from the looks of the multitude of arrows lodged in some of the targets he had been there a long time. He didn’t think to admonish him he suspected that perhaps his almost obsessive practice was his way of getting things straight in his head, that it was more relaxation than irksome work. “Everyone already knows you’re the best at what you do Hanzo. You don’t have to show off anymore”, he said with a crooked grin. 

 

Hanzo looked over his shoulder at him briefly before he focused back on his shot. “I wanted to be sure to erase all doubt”, he said with a small smirk. 

 

“I think you’ve done that already”, Genji answered as he watched him hit his marks though several arrows did veer slightly to the right. Hanzo frowned as he strode forward to pull them out “I was going to ask you what made you take up archery. You were always good at it, but what made you abandon the sword?” 

 

Hanzo didn’t answer right away instead focusing his attention on an arrow that sat jutting out of one of the training bots. He couldn’t get it out cleanly and it ended up snapping off in his hand before he let it drop to the ground. “I saw no reason to continue forward with my swordsmanship. Not after what I had done with the knowledge of it”, he said quietly. 

 

Genji quickly understood what he meant and he gave him a stilted nod realizing how awkward things had suddenly become. “Well get some rest”, he said his voice sounding strange and forced to his ears “Wouldn’t want to slip and embarrass yourself on your first mission.” 

 

Hanzo’s frown slipped away for a brief moment as he retorted “There is no possibility of that.” 

 

“Yeah, that’s what you think.” 

 

“You are far more prone to such things than I am.” 

 

“Yeah? What about the sports fest in our first year of high school? You tripped hard during the relay race and ended up taking half the class with you in some kind of weird domino effect.”

 

For that he earned a punch to the bicep he took it with ease while Hanzo was left shaking his hand but giving him a somewhat well-natured smirk. “That was a long time ago”, he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “The only thing I am concerned of is your performance”, he said, ruffling his hair until it was sticking up in every direction and then brushed past him and began walking back towards the watchpoint. Genji followed after him as he arranged his hair back into place the beginnings of a fond smile on his face.

 

That night the watchpoint was noisy, perhaps more so than usual. After a hastily thrown together dinner courtesy of Pharah and Hana they all found themselves crammed together on the couch or spread out on the floor engaging in a last-minute video game tournament. Angela had been the first one to suggest they do something before going off their separate ways for the night though she, Reinhardt and Genji quickly turned down a game of cards on the principle that there was no hope of a fair game since Jesse was known to cheat. Several other ideas were quickly tossed out with little enthusiasm from the crowd until finally, Hana declared there was only one thing left to do and before they could understand what had happened they were all whisked into playing a retro brawler game. Even Hanzo conceded to playing after the gentle prodding of Hana and the ruthless name calling of Genji. 

 

They spent the rest of the evening in that way. When Hana wasn’t playing and subsequently beating them she acted as cheerleader or heckler in Genji’s case. Even Satya and Hanzo who seemed to be known as the resident “quiet” members of the group managed to get in on the action. Satya won several games before bowing out after a devastating loss and retired to reading her book. Hanzo actually won a handful of games though he lost to Genji after 3 consecutive wins, a fact that had him demanding a rematch while Lena, Pharah and Hana laughed in the background and suggested feats of skill they could perform to see who the true victor would be. The game quickly devolved into a long drawn out bout of move spamming and before long escalated into a heated match between Hana and Reinhardt who had button mashed his way to victory on several occasions. But he was unable to win against her as she quickly put an end to the game with a fist pump and a grin. Reinhardt let out a hearty laugh while Lena held up Hana’s hand as if she were the referee for a boxing match, “The winner!”, she announced happily to a chorus of applauds from the others. There wasn’t much to do after that other than clean up the mess hall and wash the dishes that were precariously stacked in the sink. After the cleaning was finished they all bid each other their goodnights and went off to their rooms. 

 

Genji strode along the hallway with Zenyatta by his side, eager to get into bed. He entered the room and bonelessly flopped onto the mattress as Zenyatta closed the door, feeling like he could just lie there and sleep for a couple of weeks. He moved over slightly allowing Zenyatta to get on the bed but not without having to climb over him. He grinned before Zenyatta gave a put-upon sigh as he crept over him which gave Genji just enough leverage to scoop him up and kiss him. Zenyatta laughed fondly in his ear “Sometimes I think you do these things on purpose.”, he said. 

 

“Really? Why would I do that?”, Genji asked innocently, but with a truly salacious grin on his face. 

 

Zenyatta shook his head “Who can say? Though I hope that grin is not indicative of what you have in mind for the night.”

 

“Of course not we should actually get some rest. Besides the way things have been going we’d be up until at least 3 in the morning.” 

 

“Perhaps not if you would employ some restraint.” 

 

“You know I can’t do that.” 

 

“I am aware. Though as much as I’d like to admonish you for that I find that I don’t often mind”, he said slipping out of his grasp for a moment to arrange the blankets over them. “Tonight was most enjoyable”, he announced happily as he laid down. Genji curled up next to him, laying his head on his chest before pulling him closer. 

 

“It was”, he said with a short laugh “I guess it’s a good thing you talked me into staying.” 

 

Zenyatta hummed lightly “Forgive me if I was being unreasonable about that”, he said softly. 

 

Genji balked “I think pigs have a better chance of flying than that ever happening”, he said. 

 

Zenyatta chuckled lightly his hands massaging his head absently “Even so, I simply wanted us to stay so we could see this task fulfilled. But should you wish for us to leave after this mission is completed I will not stop you.”

 

“You’re having doubts?”

 

“I have many doubts though I try not to let them consume me. My original goal of wanting to help those who have been affected by Mondatta’s death still holds true but I do wonder if this is the best place for you to be. You have been more anxious than usual these past few weeks.”

 

“I know”, Genji answered halting his hand for a moment so he could press a kiss to his palm. “It’s just because of everything that’s happened. Between trying to get ready for this mission, my problem with the dragon, and of course Hanzo…”

 

“You’ve had much to deal with.” 

 

“Right”, Genji said sounding a little relieved that he had finished the sentence for him. 

 

Zenyatta stroked the top of his head “What would you like to do?” 

 

“What?” 

 

“When this mission is over what would you like to do? Would you like to return here or would you rather take a leave of absence?”

 

Genji immediately knew what he wanted to do. Flashes of that same ring came to mind, that house that seemed to become more solid with every thought. But he didn’t want to just leave again. He was beginning to grow quite fond of the makeshift family they had found here, and for all the setbacks and hasty arguments he was proud of the progress, he and Hanzo were making. He kissed Zenyatta once, grateful that he was so willing to accommodate him. “I’m not sure what I’d like to do and even if I was you should still have a say as to what we should do next. Though it would be nice to take a little vacation after we get back, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to take you somewhere.” 

 

“You have said that before on numerous occasions though I had always assumed you meant the bedroom”, Zenyatta said teasingly. 

 

“A few times I did, but this is different. This time I want to take you somewhere you’ll really enjoy yourself. Places you’ve never been before, a place where you’ll be happy.” 

 

“I appreciate the sentiment Genji, but you certainly don’t have to go out of your way. Any place where the two of us are together is more than enough for me.” 

 

Genji looked at him, a slow blush creeping across his face as he put his head down. “What’s wrong?”, Zenyatta asked curiously, patting the top of his head.

 

“I feel like you’ve been hiding all this smooth talk from me until just now.” 

 

Zenyatta didn’t answer, he merely let loose a fond laugh that sent a shiver down his spine as he ruffled his hair affectionately and gently pulled him into a kiss that left him slightly more breathless than he cared to admit. “I had forgotten until just now”, he said “But I would like you to take this with you”, he said softly as his orbs spun around him briefly and one came to rest in his outstretched hand.

 

“One of your orbs?” 

 

“Yes, even if I cannot fight alongside you at least I will be aiding you in some small way”, he said passing it to him. 

 

Genji took it, cradling it carefully in his hands as if it were made of the most delicate glasswork. It felt warm he noticed almost alive in the way it seemed to vibrate and shift in his palm. “Thank you”, he said, his eyes threatening to water with the force of emotions that simple gesture had brought on. 

 

“Of course”, Zenyatta answered gently, his hand moving to cup his cheek. “How are you feeling about tomorrow?”, he asked. 

 

Genji leaned into the touch “I was going to ask you the same thing”, he said. 

 

“I am doing fine.” 

 

“I wish I could say the same.”

 

“I certainly can’t begrudge you for feeling anxious. It is only natural, even more so when we are taking on such a grand challenge as the one we will face tomorrow. It can be difficult at times but the best thing to do is to not let those fearful imaginings overtake you.” 

 

“I think I’m failing there.” 

 

“What exactly is troubling you?”

 

Genji snorted “How long do you have?” 

 

“For you, all the time in the world.” 

 

Genji smiled briefly “There are so many things to consider”, he said slowly. “So many things that could go wrong, so many things that we don’t know. Hanzo brought up that same point the other day and I was quick to say he was being unreasonable for wanting to know more, for trying to hold off until we did. But he was right, for all we know we could be walking right into an ambush. They could have strengthened their forces, they could have more omnics, more guards, they could have even gotten back up from Talon. Even if Hanzo and I are able to take away control from Daisuke that doesn’t guarantee a clean break. We may not be able to round up all the stragglers, they may just try to revive the clan again somewhere else regardless of our decision.”

 

Zenyatta remained silent throughout the duration of his tirade. He pressed a gentle kiss along the line of his jaw before finally giving him his reply. “Your concerns are not misplaced Genji”, he said softly “But very rarely do things go as badly as we think they will. We cannot let supposed disasters paralyze us.” 

 

“I know, but it’s still hard not to think about.” 

 

“Of course”, Zenyatta answered “But all will go well”, he said firmly. 

 

Genji pulled him closer, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck. “When you say it like that I believe it.”

 

“It is not as important if I believe it. What truly matters is that you believe it for yourself.” 

 

“I want to. We’ve been training so hard these past few weeks, there should be no reason for me to doubt how things will go. As usual, it’s the unknown factors, the things that I can’t control that have me on edge. But you’re right, I can’t keep letting the fear of what might happen overwhelm me”, he said firmly. “I do feel better knowing you’ll be there though”, he said, kissing him.

 

“The feeling is mutual”, Zenyatta answered, allowing several more kisses before he pointed at the clock. To Genji’s dismay it was already close to midnight and no matter how reluctant he was to go to sleep, overwhelmed with the enticing idea of how the night could end in a passionate outpouring of adoration amidst breathless laughter and tireless caresses, he knew they would have to wake up early tomorrow. So with a rueful smile, he kissed him one more time along the side of his face, wished him a good night’s sleep and turned out the light. 

 

The next morning dawned cold and gray. Genji had hoped for the sun to break through as they were boarding the transport but he was only greeted with what seemed to be an impenetrable cloud bank and a sea of slow-moving fog as he and Zenyatta shuffled onboard. They had gotten up early to meditate and take a quick run around the shooting range only to find Pharah and Jesse already there taking pot shots at the bots in the still darkness of early morning. After a brief exchange, the four of them had trudged into the mess hall where Reinhardt had laid out an extensive breakfast that spanned the length of the communal table. “Eat hearty my friends!”, he announced loudly from the stove, wearing an apron that was far too small to stretch across his massive physique. Despite the fact that it looked like he was cooking for a group twice their size they ate their food with gusto and thanked him for his good work. After their meal, they all went their separate ways to don their gear and look over their weapons and reconvened back in the rec room so Winston could give them a short pep talk before they all filed out onto the landing strip to board the transport. Admittedly it felt strange for all of them to be going. He had become accustomed to the idea of dealing with the clan himself, even when they had left to take out the clan the first time much of the work had fallen to him not so much by necessity but for the mere fact that he wanted to deal with things alone. It had been his fight, his chance at revenge. Now though he understood that he could have easily avoided the cuts and near death tussles of those early missions had he simply let the others help him. Even Hanzo who had been reluctant to get the others involved seemed to welcome their presence as he allowed himself a quick smile as their chatter filled the transport while they crept around each other to take their seats. He could only hope that they would make it back to the watchpoint in the same good spirits as when they left. 

 

The flight to Hanamura was long, Lena and Pharah took shifts so as not to tire out. He sat at the back of the transport his hand held in Zenyatta's trying to clear his mind from all the supposed missteps and tactical errors that could happen, replaying them so frequently that they seemed destined to occur. Zenyatta seemed to sense his agitation because he crowded close to him and gently instructed him to breathe and try to calm himself. He nodded as he took several shaky breaths before closing his eyes, taking comfort in the coolness of his palm. He breathed out slowly, the thoughts that had been plaguing him since they had begun planning this mission finally beginning to recede. He opened his eyes to see Zenyatta nodding his head, Genji sighed eager to kiss him but was afraid if he did he would get distracted so he satisfied himself with putting his arm around his shoulder. 

 

Hanzo sat close by them, to his surprise he had fallen asleep about an hour ago, his head lolled onto Jesse’s shoulder who was peering down at him obviously unsure whether to wake him or not. He looked to Genji for help, mouthing to him “What should I do?”

 

Genji shrugged which elicited a disappointed look from Jesse. He gave him a smug look before mouthing “Figure it out.” Jesse shot him a look that told him he would undoubtedly be hearing about his unwillingness to help when the mission was over and went still obviously choosing to let him sleep. The rest of the transport was doing much the same, Hana was stretched out in her seat her arms crossed over her chest as she dozed. Lena was in much the same position as she slept in a seat next to Winston who seemed to be waking up every other minute most likely due to the thunderous snoring of Reinhardt. A situation that Satya had obviously come prepared for as she had put in her earbuds before falling asleep. Pharah stood at the controls, diligently watching the sky while Angela sat close by looking drowsy but trading casual conversation with her. He looked back to Zenyatta, kissing him once before urging him to also get some sleep, after all, they would be landing sooner than he thought. 

 

Genji woke to the sound of gentle chatter between Hanzo and Zenyatta. Apparently, they were discussing the merits of several books as opposed to their film adaptations when Genji finally opened his eyes to see Zenyatta looking down at him, his brother eyeing him from his seat. “Are we there yet?”, he rasped rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

 

“Almost”, Zenyatta answered softly. 

 

“It’s a wonder you didn’t wake yourself with all the snoring you were doing”, Hanzo said with a smirk. 

 

“I do not snore”, Genji protested. 

 

“How can you know for certain?” 

 

“I didn’t snore did I?”, he asked, looking to Zenyatta. 

 

“Slightly, though it was not unpleasant”, Zenyatta answered. 

 

“Betrayed by my own partner”, he cried, clinging to his robes. 

 

“Could you cease your dramatics?”, Hanzo asked with a put-upon sigh. 

 

“No”, Genji replied flatly. Hanzo shook his head as the transport began its slow descent to the ground. 

 

Once they had safely landed they quickly went into action. Satya was at the front of the transport, a pyramid of turquoise light extending from her palm she let the construct go, a teleporter forming as the light dispersed. He and Hanzo were the first to go through, his sword drawn and Hanzo to the left of him with his arrow already nocked. They emerged from the portal to see that they were by the eastern wall around the corner from the gate. Genji was surprised to see that there were no guards and though he should have been relieved that only served to trouble him further. Hanzo seemed to feel similarly because he was frowning as he surveyed the perimeter. Genji didn’t think on it long as the rest of their companions dutifully filed through as he took a quick breath and scaled the wall peering over to the other side. 

 

He felt most of the breath leave his lungs as he saw a slew of Talon agents patrolling the grounds. Even if they and the clan had been quiet it was obvious they had been fortifying their defenses. He dropped down quietly from where he was perched, had his face been visible they would have easily been able to see what the situation was. “How is it looking over the wall? Don't keep us in suspense”, Reinhardt said quietly, hammer in hand. 

 

“There are at least 35 Talon agents patrolling the courtyard”, he answered. 

 

“That was an inevitability I guess. They were almost too quiet”, Winston said next to him. 

 

“We had hoped for a smaller group though”, Angela said looking mildly concerned. “If we were just dealing with the Shimada-gumi things would be easier. But with Talon so heavily involved, we’re bound to draw more fire from them later on.” 

 

“We knew the risks when we began this endeavor”, Satya said in a hushed tone. 

 

“She’s gotta point, can’t back out now”, Lena said. 

 

“Right, then let’s get going”, Genji said firmly, as Zenyatta’s orb floated to his side and emitted a steady golden glow.

 

“Right”, Hana said almost cheerfully, as Genji hopped atop her mech and they flew over the wall. Within seconds the sound of gunfire hitting Hana’s mech thundered in his ears as he leapt out of their line of sight, throwing several shuriken. They all hit their marks in the agent’s chests as Hana returned their fire, easily maneuvering and swerving out of the way. He was just engaging an agent, dodging his blow and thrusting forward with his sword as he heard the distinctive twang of his brother’s bow. Behind him Hanzo hopped down from the wall, shooting agents with blinding speed. Genji twisted out of the way as another attacker launched forward while Reinhardt came charging through the wall. He heard Hanzo shout something but it was lost to the noise of frenzied gunfire and frantic yells as Reinhardt burst through a group of agents with Angela trailing behind him her wings spread and the beam from her staff glowing like a streak of gold.

 

Lena ran in behind her, within a second she had run through the guards, guns blazing as they tried in vain to aim at her. Satya stayed behind Reinhardt’s shield, blasting several guards as Zenyatta covered by Jesse and Winston made their way through the crumbling remains of the wall and began to take their shots. 

 

All seemed to be going well until he heard the same sound that had heralded their troubles last time. Within seconds as the few remaining Talon agents began to fall under the onslaught he saw the Vishkar omnics, seemingly more than last time come quickly filing out of several entrances in every direction. “Vishkar omnics incoming!”, Lena cried out over the com link. 

 

“I will dispose of them”, Satya responded. He didn’t have time to see what was happening, within seconds he was being swarmed by multiple omnics. He fought back several that seemed to be trying to overwhelm him simply with brute strength. They were beginning to succeed as one managed to get him in a tight hold. They must have been trying to apply the same tactic to the others as he heard a frustrated shout from Jesse and an irritated huff from Hana at a number of omnics currently clinging to her mech for dear life. He escaped the hold and slashed through a good number of them, gutting the circuitry in one’s chest as one came from behind and grabbed him. He tried to jerk him off but to no avail as another omnic launched forward to try to stab him. He just managed to get out of the way as another punched him in the jaw. He didn’t feel the pain but the impact sent him toppling to the ground, Zenyatta’s orb lost in the fray. He heard several people call his name but couldn’t make out who they were in all the noise. As he attempted to stand he heard a loud snap and a pulse of blue light illuminated everything around him. The omnics fell to the ground as he got to his feet to see the others looking relieved but still wary. And with good reason, as within the next second, the omnics were pulling themselves back up. Genji cursed as attacks came from all directions. A shot of a gun, an errant arrow sent flying overhead, a sweep to his legs that he managed to leap over only to duck as a guard sailed over him launched by one of Reinhardt’s blows. Several omnics fell to Winston’s electricity, Hana came swooping through sending Talon agents and omnics flying. Jesse grabbed him off the ground as he shot another omnic that had dashed forward with a sword in hand. Lena blinked past followed by Angela, he saw Zenyatta shooting projectiles left and right as Satya covered his back. Hanzo was atop the wall shooting with unerring aim as he ducked several misplaced shots. He evaded two badly aimed kicks from a Talon agent who he sent flying only to land on Hana’s mech which she quickly shook off. He managed to deter another omnic from going after Hanzo with a few shuriken but was rushed from the side. 

 

Once again he was sent flying to the ground as the next wave came in. But to his shock, several fell to rapid gunfire from above them. Genji looked to the sky to see Pharah, her suit glinting in the pale moonlight as she bombarded the courtyard with gunfire, her shots tearing through omnic and Talon agent alike. She managed to lay waste to what was left of the omnics but there were several Talon agents left to deal with. He heard Winston call in over the line “Genji you and Hanzo should go. Find Daisuke, we can handle this.”

 

“Right”, he answered, signaling for Hanzo to come with him. 

 

Just then he heard a chorus of voices shout as he heard a gunshot. He heard a cry and then looked up to see Pharah quickly descending “Sniper”, she said, “I’ve been hit.”

 

“I’m coming to you”, Angela called out.

 

“A Talon sniper”, he thought as he could just make out the faint click-clack of women’s heels on the tiles, a noise that sent more dread through him than he cared to admit. “Of course she would be here”, he thought as a strange emotion came over him. He looked to Zenyatta for a moment who was currently trailing behind Angela in case she needed further assistance. He absently wondered what Zenyatta would think if he had the chance to confront her, what would he- 

 

“Come on”, Hanzo urged, impatient that he still hadn’t moved. They passed by Zenyatta and he clapped him once on the shoulder as they ran towards the inner part of the courtyard, while the others continued their fight. “They’ll be fine. They’re going to secure the courtyard soon. There’s nothing to be worried about”, he told himself fervently as he and Hanzo ran through the courtyard and to the entrance. The hallways were thankfully empty but that only served to put him further on edge. “Where do you think he would be?”, Genji asked as they continued to sweep through the interior of the castle. 

 

“The study of course”, Hanzo answered as they continued to run. They rounded a corner to the hallway where their father’s old study was located and were greeted by a handful of Talon agents accompanied by clan members standing watch by the door. Genji cursed again, rearing back as one shot forward with his sword. Hanzo knocked him out of the way with his bow, retaliating with a strike at his head. The man was sent flying into the nearby wall as the others left their places by the door. Hanzo was on them in a matter of seconds, he had shot several arrows as Genji dodged another attack and threw his shuriken. Quicker than he had expected they were the only ones left standing, though he regretted the noise the attack had caused as he was sure Daisuke had been alerted to their presence. Tradition would dictate that he not flee, but even so he still anxious. Hanzo clapped him hard on the shoulder giving him an almost understanding look. He gave Hanzo a terse nod in return before breaking down the door with a kick.

 

Sitting at their father’s old desk, the remains of several abandoned aquarium tanks behind him, was a tall man with a lean build, and a vaguely familiar face. Genji examined him for a brief moment, his nose was slightly more broad and long than his own but his brows looked identical to theirs. The man looked them over with narrowed eyes, his gaze quickly moving over Genji and settling on Hanzo. “Daisuke”, Hanzo said quietly next to him, his voice full of recognition but his arrow still nocked. The silence seemed to stretch on for a long time, Daisuke’s face going through several conflicting emotions before settling on a sad looking smile.

 

“Hanzo, I had heard rumors that you were still around, killing off the last of the old clan members but I didn’t want to believe it. How could you betray your family? How could you throw away everything your father spent so long to build?”, he asked, sounding dismayed. 

 

Hanzo pulled a face as if he were in pain “You do not know me”, he said sounding agitated. “You do not know what I had to endure to try to keep my father’s legacy alive. But I realized I could no longer walk this path when it came at the expense of my brother’s life.”

 

Their cousin’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second “What are you talking about?” 

 

“The elders ordered me to kill Genji because he refused to fall in line with the clan’s ideals”, Hanzo answered stoically.

 

Daisuke looked taken aback “Did y-”, he silenced himself, closing his eyes. When he opened them again his voice had gone steely “It would have been easy for him to simply fall in line with what the elders wanted. If he refused to then that’s his fault.”

 

“Enough of this”, Genji said, angry and impatient “We came here to reclaim leadership of the clan not to talk.” 

 

“What?”, Daisuke asked looking confused “You want to take the role of leader Hanzo?”, he asked, once again looking to his brother.

 

“Only so that we may disband the clan for good”, Hanzo answered.

 

Once again Daisuke looked confused, but this time with a trace of anger in his eyes. He pulled at the sword by his side, his face suddenly gone grim. “I don’t understand this”, he said, his tone baffled as the glinting metal of his blade fully came into view. He didn’t say any more, he merely shook his head as he looked between them, obviously trying to see who he should attack first. He settled on Hanzo as he came rushing forward and Hanzo jolted back and out of his blades reach his back suddenly pressed to the wall. 

 

Genji threw his shuriken, one of them caught Daisuke in the arm as he sidestepped out of the way to take another hit at Hanzo. He missed as Hanzo dropped to the floor, rolling up in one quick fluid motion and taking a shot at his chest. Daisuke’s eyes went wide as he jerked out of its path and fell to the floor. Genji took the opportunity, dashing forward with his sword drawn and bringing his blade down just stopping short of piercing his stomach, temporarily immobilized by the past. 

 

Hanzo seemed to see this and stepped up to Daisuke's side, casting him an almost pitying look. “It does not have to be this way”, he said firmly “You can leave now, we can make it seem as though you put up a good fight to keep control of the clan.” 

 

Genji looked at Hanzo to see him eyeing Daisuke with an almost sympathetic look now. Something that seemed to go unnoticed by their cousin who merely gave him an irritated look “Where is your pride?”, he rasped. 

 

Hanzo looked at him, his tone suddenly steely “I lost my pride that night. All I have left now are my guilt and my shame”, he answered grimly. 

 

Daisuke closed his eyes at his answer frowning slightly as he went completely still underneath Genji’s blade. “I can’t just surrender”, he said quietly and with that, he fell silent as a dragon, a deep shade of teal burst through the cloth of his suit and surged towards him. 

 

Genji leapt back out if its path as it came rushing towards them. Daisuke took the opportunity to regain his footing and swipe at him, he parried the blow as the dragon went after Hanzo. He saw his brother’s eyes widen before he felt a searing pain in his arm as Daisuke had struck a blow while he had been distracted. He felt the circuitry in his arm seize as he blocked another blow less than successfully his side getting nicked for his troubles. He managed to push him back as he saw an arrow shoot towards Daisuke’s chest which he just managed to dodge by pressing himself against the wall. Genji heard the dragon’s roar filling his ears and felt the intense heat on his back and immediately he fell to the floor narrowly evading its fury. He was dragged onto his feet a moment later by Hanzo who quickly summoned his dragons, his eyes fixed on Daisuke. Their cousin looked panicked as he saw them surge towards him, he leapt out of the way as his own dragon came towards them, the three spirits locked together in savage combat. They continued to snarl and claw at each other while Daisuke fled the room through an open window, they followed after him onto the roof where he stopped just shy of leaping to the next available ledge. With the backdrop of the waning moon and the blossoms of the cherry trees behind him he turned to face them, a small spot of blood bleeding through his jacket, his sword still drawn.

 

“I’m sorry it had to come to this”, Daisuke muttered, sounding genuinely remorseful. 

 

“It doesn’t have to be this way”, Genji said impatiently, as he could hear the bellows and enraged howls of the dragons quarreling below them. Hanzo looked on edge standing next to him but said nothing, eyeing him curiously. 

 

“What other choice did I have? The clan needed a leader.”

 

“So you dishonor us entirely by making deals with Talon?”, Hanzo asked. 

 

Daisuke looked offended. “I had no other choice. We were weak and needed help, and they were willing to give it. I don’t think you understand how things were after you left the clan in shambles. And you obviously didn’t know how critical it was for those still loyal to your father to keep the clan alive, even if it was through me. I already had my own life to live but I put it all aside to do take up the task of leadership that you tossed aside. I couldn’t just let my uncle’s legacy die. And the rest of them were so desperate after his death, how could I possibly refuse?”

 

“I understand that feeling well”, Hanzo said sounding more than a little melancholy “But my father would have never wanted things to devolve this way. I know that now.” 

 

“What should I have done then?”, Daisuke asked, looking lost “Just let the clan die?” 

 

Hanzo gave him a look that he couldn’t easily name before he said quietly “If it’s come to this then perhaps it should.” 

 

Daisuke looked at him, a questioning look on his face “I’m not s-”

 

He was cut off by the sound of a gunshot. Genji’s eyes widened as he saw Daisuke fall, his back arching before he hit the tiles and rolled off the side of the roof. He called out his name in a panic but his attention was immediately arrested by the sight of Hanzo clutching his side, kneeling on the tiles. Genji’s mind went blank as he saw the blood already staining his clothes, a trail of crimson quickly moving down the length of his leg. His panic was instantly eaten away as he glanced to the adjacent roof to see the familiar silhouette of Widowmaker, just barely illuminated by the light of the moon, standing with her gun still cocked and aimed to take the final shot. Without a second thought, he threw himself in front of Hanzo and within the next moment either summoned through rage or his fervent desire to protect, his dragon was already there, lunging towards Widowmaker at a breakneck pace. He didn’t have time to see her immolation or whether she retreated as the roof below their feet erupted. He and Hanzo were thrown high into the air amidst a flurry of cracked tiles and splintered wood as his brother and Daisuke’s dragons were locked in a red hot blaze, entangled and struggling to outdo the other. They ran past them, ascending quickly into the air as Genji saw the roof beginning to burn along with the rest of the castle ignited by their celestial flame. 

 

He was the first to land, the force of the collision dazing him as he heard a sickly crack and he felt pain erupt through him. Winded he tried to stagger to his feet but could only manage a crawl as his vision went black for a moment. He shook his head, he needed to find Hanzo. He looked around only to see his bow and quiver lying on the ground and then not 2 feet away he saw his brother’s motionless form. Genji crawled forward, barely able to breathe, completely seized with panic as he turned him over and frantically searched for a pulse. Above him came a thunderous melancholy wail and he looked up to see the castle engulfed in a blinding column of flame as his brother’s dragons had Daisuke’s dragon in a tight hold like that of a boa constrictor. Their cousin’s dragon let out an eerie wail as he saw it struggle as the last remainder of life was seemingly squeezed from it. In a terrifying display, one head bit its neck and it loosed one last feeble cry before going completely still. He didn’t watch to see what happened next as he heard a raspy cough below him and he looked down to see Hanzo shifting in his grasp but he didn’t open his eyes. He felt for his pulse again, it was there but just barely. He was relieved but not entirely as he tried to stand again but fell to his knees with Hanzo still in his arms. The fire was only drawing closer to them and he wasn’t sure if it was his panic or the smoke itself that was making it hard to breathe. “A-Angela”, he called out over the comm link. 

 

“Genji, where are you? I can barely make you out”, she answered. 

 

“I’m in the courtyard. Near the southern wall of the castle.” 

 

“Where?”, she shouted, sounding alarmed. 

 

“Near the fire at the southern wall. I can’t move and Hanzo is badly wounded”, he shouted. 

 

“I’m coming to you now”, Angela yelled before the com went silent. He hoped that she would make it to their location quickly as he attempted to stand again but found it impossible. The smoke had enveloped most of the sky by now, the acrid smell of 700-year-old wood, mortar, and stone, the very past itself burning around them. The dragons were long gone now, their task fulfilled but their fire slowly consuming what remained of the castle. The smoke had completely blocked out the sky now. Genji felt along Hanzo’s throat, his shoulder and forearm beginning to go numb, to feel again for his pulse. He felt nothing. His breath hitched “It’s because my forearm is numb”, he told himself quickly trying to stave off the panic as it truly became a chore to breathe. Just as he felt himself slipping out of consciousness he heard the familiar voice of Angela as she called out his name accompanied by the panicked voice of Lena cut off as she cried “I think he’s here-!”

\----

 

There was a blur of movement and color all around him, it sounded as if a choir of voices was calling his name one of them sounding very much like the thunderous tones of the dragon. He jolted forward almost sailing up and off the bed. He looked around frantically to see that he was in the med bay, Zenyatta was in a chair nearby, his head lolled to one side in sleep. He smiled briefly as he gently shook him “Zenyatta”, he called, his voice hoarse. Within an instant he was awake, the cyan lights atop his forehead blinking to life. “Genji, I am so glad to see that you’re alright”, he said sounding relieved.

 

He didn’t respond he merely kissed him, not sure if he would be able to hug him with the current pain in his back and the soreness in his arm. “Where’s Hanzo?”, he asked, his panic renewed as he looked around to see that he wasn’t in the room. 

 

“He is down the hall”, Zenyatta answered, a firm hold on his hand “Dr. Ziegler is currently working on him.” 

 

“I need to see him”, he said firmly. For a moment he wondered if Zenyatta would protest but without another word, he beckoned for him to get out of bed. He did so, moving gingerly the pain in his back nearly excruciating as he leaned on Zenyatta heavily for support. He bore his weight seemingly easily as he led him down the hall and opened the door. Angela was already there looking at her tablet with Hanzo laid out on the bed. She looked up her eyes gone wide in surprise “Genji, you should be in bed”, she said sternly “You’re still heavily injured.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere until I know how he’s doing.” 

 

She relented for a moment, looking down to where his brother was sleeping. “He will be fine but that bullet did quite a bit of damage. He’ll need time to recover.” 

 

Genji let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding “I thought he had-”, he cut himself off “I didn’t feel a pulse”, he explained, his tone choked. 

 

“I would imagine not when Lena and I found you the sensors in your hands had gone out. It's possible they were beginning to numb as you were checking his pulse”, she said as she gave him a sympathetic look. “If you like I can set up a bed for you here. He will most likely be asleep for some time.” 

 

“Thank you Angela”, he said, relieved.

 

“Zenyatta you should get some rest as well.” 

 

“I will be fine. My place is here”, Zenyatta replied in a firm but amiable manner. 

 

She gave him a brief nod before walking off in search of some blankets for the empty cot next to him. Genji didn’t watch her leave his eyes were fixed on Hanzo, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest in the dim light of the room. He felt Zenyatta slipping his hand into his own, Genji gave it a gentle squeeze as they stood there contemplating his brother, the question of how long his recovery would take weighing heavily on his mind.

 

Hanzo slept for 1 day, only coming out of it to groan or to turn over. Throughout that time Genji accompanied by Zenyatta had remained by his side only leaving once to eat and to let Angela examine the progress of his healing. When he finally did fully awaken it was early that next morning, Zenyatta spurred on by Genji’s gentle reassurances that he would be fine had gone off to meditate and he was just about to leave the room to make a quick breakfast when he heard a familiar groan. He looked over to see Hanzo trying to sit up and he immediately abandoned his place by the door and came over to his side gently pushing him to lay back down. “Genji”, he rasped. 

 

“I’m here.” 

 

“Where are we?”, Hanzo asked looking around rubbing his eyes. 

 

“Back at the watchpoint.” 

 

Hanzo sighed “Good. What happened? What happened to Daisuke?” 

 

“He was shot but he managed to get away. We haven’t found him yet.”

 

Hanzo groaned “So we could not even accomplish what we set out to do.” 

 

“It’s fine, your dragon devoured his while you were knocked out.” 

 

“But what of the rest of the clan?” 

 

“The UN has managed to catch some of them but a lot of them are still missing. But if they do try to reform again it won’t be back there.” 

 

“Why?” 

 

Genji looked away entirely unsure if he should divulge this piece of information now.

 

“Genji”, Hanzo said firmly “Tell me what’s happened.”

 

He sighed, it seemed cruel to tell him while he was still injured but he knew from past experiences that his brother wouldn’t let the matter drop until he had gotten the information he wanted. “The castle is gone”, he said slowly “The dragon’s flames burned it down completely.”

 

Hanzo looked stricken, he turned away for a moment his gaze focused on his hands in his lap. He closed his eyes, sighing once before he opened them again. “I suppose that saves us the trouble of having to decide what to do with it now”, he said with an almost rueful look on his face. 

 

Genji laughed at that, his short barks of laughter escalating into hearty guffaws. He laughed so long and with so much force that tears began to stream down his face. Hanzo looked at him strangely when he began, but his chuckles must have been infectious because not long after he had joined him. A moment later Zenyatta and Angela returned to the room only to be welcomed by the rare sight of the two brothers holding their sides, completely doubled over in laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos, they never cease to make me smile. I'm sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter out but my schedule has been pretty busy lately and then my allergies threw me for a loop. I'm hoping the last chapter will be out quicker as I've already started writing it. Honestly, it feels strange to be coming up on the end, it's been such an amazing ride writing this story. But we have to end the story somewhere and the loose ends will be tied up in the next chapter in regards to the clan. As always thanks so much for reading!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo and Genji begin to deal with the aftermath of what happened in Hanamura and Genji finally asks Zenyatta a very important question.

Within a week’s time Hanzo was back on the shooting range, upsetting the gulls with the loud twang of his bow and spending many of his evenings on the cliff, his skin chilled by the ocean air as he watched the heavens slowly turn. Genji was glad for it. He hadn’t allowed him to see it while he recuperated but he was beyond himself with worry as he had sat by his bedside that first night avidly watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, trying to forget the overwhelming fear he had experienced when he thought there was no pulse underneath his fingertips. He hadn’t allowed himself much time to reflect on what could have been had that thought been a reality instead focusing his attention on his own healing and their unfinished business with the clan. 

 

The aftermath of their strike on the Shimada-gumi was seemingly felt throughout the city. According to several reports from the UN, some of the families from the surrounding areas were getting restless after seeing the decimation of the Shimada’s ancestral home although no one seemed to know how the fire had started nor who was the real culprit. He and Hanzo weren’t concerned about the other families’ gossip, they would stick to their territories or attempt to take what was left behind, either way, it would be dealt with. What intrigued them were the rumors that some of the remaining members, scattered and embittered as they were, were trying to make sense of the situation and rebuild. But with the castle a smoldering pile of wood and scorched masonry, and Talon’s support retracted, it looked unlikely that they would actually succeed a second time. But the question of where they were hiding was still a mystery as well as the whereabouts of their wayward cousin. Hanzo offered up several locations where they might be, old safe houses and abandoned haunts that they may have looked to for refuge. They had traveled to some of them under assumed names looking through empty corridors and moss-covered ruins with little success. Even with the aid of the UN, they were still making agonizingly slow progress. Genji would have been more frustrated if not for the fact that with the immediate threat gone his mind had been completely occupied with the idea of proposing to Zenyatta. 

 

When he was younger he thought a marriage proposal had to be some grand spectacle. That was the belief he had held for a long time, one that was quickly shaken by his father when he had told him of his own proposal to his mother. He had told him after a great deal of prying on his part after the subject had been touched upon one evening at dinner. His mother had merely laughed about it as he looked over to see the tips of his father’s ears turn red with embarrassment. She had then proceeded to kiss him still laughing fondly as she cleared the table and sashayed into the kitchen. When he had brought it up again several days later his father had made it look as if he were too busy to answer, making a grand show of looking through the documents stacked high on his desk. Finally, he relented after a few minutes of Genji pouting and with a put-upon sigh, he pushed his work aside. 

 

“I believe you are spending too much time with your mother. You have her pout down already”, his father said with a rueful smile. 

 

“Mom said you would say that.”

 

“She did, did she?” 

 

Genji nodded “Yes, she also said you would try to stall.” 

 

“That woman is too clever for her own good”, he said with a fond smile “What exactly did you want to know my young sparrow?”, he asked putting his arm around Genji’s small shoulders. 

 

“How did you propose to mom? Whenever I ask her about it, she just laughs and never tells me anything.” 

 

He heard his father give a light groan “I had asked her not to tell anyone unless I did it myself.” 

 

“Why?” 

 

“It wasn’t my best moment”, his father explained “I wanted to impress her so I did every romantic thing that came to mind. I bought a skywriter, had someone release doves, took her out to a night of dinner and dancing.” 

 

“But that all sounds like good stuff”, Genji insisted. 

 

“I thought so too but nothing went as planned.” 

 

“What happened?” 

 

“Are you sure you want to know Genji?”, he asked leaning heavily on him. 

 

“Yes I do”, he replied as he struggled to push him off. 

 

“Fine”, he sighed “The skywriter I hired misspelled your mother’s name, thankfully a cloud passed over right as she was about to look. I had planned for the doves to be released after she saw my proposal in the air but as soon as they were let go they all flew to this statue and refused to move. After that, I was so flustered that nothing had gone right that I moped all through dinner. The only thing that seemed to go as planned was the dancing. Well, until I stepped on your mother's toes.”

 

Somehow Genji managed to keep himself from laughing. 

 

“I took her home and after I came back with some ice for her feet she asked me what was going on. I told her everything then awkwardly presented her the ring. To my surprise, she still decided to marry me even after all that.” 

 

“But that stuff wasn’t that bad.”

 

“Perhaps not but I sincerely thought so back then. Everything seems so much more embarrassing when you’re young.” 

 

Genji went silent for a moment, thinking over his father’s words. “So did mom like all those things you tried to do for her?” 

 

“She did, but she told me she would have been just as happy with something simple.” 

 

“Really?” 

 

“Yes, sometimes the simplest things mean the most.”

 

Genji let a fond smile slip on his face as he ruminated on his father’s words, after so much time wasted on fleeting attractions and needless extravagance he had finally understood what he meant. None of those things had mattered in the end and they certainly hadn’t been at the crux of his relationship with Zenyatta. They had fallen in love in a monastery, in the cold wet snow of the mountainside, confessed their feelings in a meager hotel room, made love on threadbare sheets in the sweltering heat. His proposal would have to be something simple, anything beyond that seemed excessive and pointlessly lavish. So with those thoughts in mind and spurred on by a ubiquitous sense of anticipation he slipped off the island early that morning while Zenyatta meditated with Lena, Satya, and Hana. Before he could even reach the shoreline he was stopped by Hanzo who insisted on accompanying him, claiming that he had some errands to run. Begrudgingly he let him on the transport, dismayed and more than a little annoyed by his presence. They didn’t speak throughout the duration of the ride into the city and after several minutes of walking together they quickly parted ways and he sprinted off in the direction of the jewelry store.

 

Sadly, they didn’t have the exact ring that had initially caught his eye. But after the woman at the counter had shown him several bands inlaid with diamonds, topazes, and luminous emeralds he finally found what he was looking for; a simple band of highly polished gold set in a box of navy velvet. He hastily bought the matching ring for himself and left the shop with a smile, the box safely tucked away in a small bag slung over his shoulder. With his anxiousness gone and his initial annoyance abated he walked the streets in search of Hanzo who he saw a few moments later walking into a cramped but tidy looking barber shop. 

 

His curiosity peaked he followed a few paces behind him though Hanzo quickly noticed his presence as he placed his bags on the newly swept floor and took a seat to wait. Genji sat next to him, shooting him an incredulous look as his brother blithely ignored him in favor of pulling out a book from amongst his purchases and beginning to read. It wasn’t long before it was his turn and he left Genji sitting there with a slightly puzzled look on his face as he took his seat in the barber’s chair. He watched as he and the barber spoke for a few short minutes and then almost jolted in shock to see most of Hanzo’s hair fall to the floor as the barber shaved the sides and back of his head. What was left was quickly pulled into a bun on top of his head and after a terse nod he rose from the chair and paid the man his money. Hanzo strode back to where Genji was stationed with his bags, his eyes searching his face. “You look surprised”, he stated simply. 

 

“I guess I am, I wasn’t expecting you to cut most of your hair. You’ve kept it long ever since we were young”, he replied, thinking back to their youth and how Hanzo had kept his hair so long that he had been mistaken for a girl a handful of times, much to his irritation. 

 

Hanzo gave him a wry smile “It was time for a change”, he answered and with that, he picked up his bags and quietly beckoned for Genji to follow him outside. 

 

He did so slowly, following him with belated steps as he considered his words. As they made their way back to the transport he understood very quickly what he meant and he couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face as they rode back to the watchpoint. Hanzo’s change in hairstyle did not go unnoticed as Hana was the first one to comment on it, telling him this was a much better look for him to which many of the others agreed. He restrained his laughter as he watched Hanzo accept their approval with terse nods and almost flustered thanks. He was glad to see it, he had been laboring under the weight of the past for too long. It was good to see him finally able to loosen up a bit. 

 

“Now if I could just get him to smile more”, Genji said with a smirk as he and Zenyatta cleaned up after dinner, the rest of the agents already retired to their rooms for the night. 

 

“It seems unwise to rush such a thing”, Zenyatta commented amiably as he turned out the lights and they made their way into the corridor. 

 

“You’re right, besides I think his face is stuck that way.”

 

“I’m afraid I’m not inclined to believe that with the way he smiles every time that you do.” 

 

“What? What are you talking about?” 

 

“You haven’t noticed?” 

 

“No.”

 

“That is understandable he is quick to hide it.”

 

“How long has this been happening?” 

 

“Ever since he arrived”, he stopped for a moment to observe him, putting a hand on his cheek. “You look baffled.” 

 

“I guess I am. Though I’m not entirely sure why.” 

 

Zenyatta nodded as they came to the door to their room and punched in the code. “Despite all that has happened between you, it is obvious that it still brings him a great deal of joy to see you at peace with yourself. I am sure one day he will even be willing to allow you to see that.” 

 

“Maybe, though it would definitely be going against his nature.”

 

“Perhaps, but who can say for certain? He may surprise you just as he did today.”

 

“Point taken”, Genji conceded finally as he lazily trudged over to the bed and slipped under the covers. They laid in the dark for a while after that, speaking to each other in hushed tones before he noticed Zenyatta had fallen asleep. He smiled fondly, kissing him on the forehead as his thoughts once again turned to the ring currently hidden in his drawer under a pile of poorly folded towels. The fact that the ring had already been purchased helped to ease his mind to some degree but it did little to guide him towards the appropriate proposal.

 

He laid awake for hours listening to the gentle hum of his internal hardware as he tried to think of a place he could take him that would help to convey even a small portion of what he felt. A place where they could be alone if only for a moment, somewhere more romantically ideal than the tiny inlet they were stationed on. He spent the next several hours agonizing over it and even as he woke the next morning it was the first thing on his mind. Zenyatta was already gone, his neatly written note placed on the bedside table explaining that he had left to help Winston with something. Genji put the note back in its place stretching once before he decided to take a quick run around the base. As he walked out into the chilly confines of the empty hallway he saw Hanzo slowly approaching with his bow over his shoulder and his quiver in tow. He gave him a quizzical look before asking “What are you doing up so early?” 

 

“I can get up early if I like.”

 

“You have never troubled yourself to do so in the past”, Hanzo answered, keying in the code to his room.”

 

Genji rolled his eyes “Actually, I could use your help.” 

 

“With what?”

 

He didn’t answer, he merely gestured for Hanzo to follow him into his room. He did so right as he pulled the ring box from his drawer and opened it to reveal the two golden bands that sat inside. “With this”, he said finally.

 

Hanzo’s eyes widened “Does Zenyatta know?” he asked quietly. 

 

“Not yet, that’s what I need your help with.” 

 

“You are asking me to help you with your marriage proposal?” 

 

“I’m desperate”, Genji answered, closing the box. 

 

Hanzo shot him an offended look before he replied: “Father had done something very extravagant for his proposal to mother.”

 

“Yeah, I remember him telling me that but that’s not the kind of proposal Zenyatta would want.”

 

“I agree, though I assume you are asking me because you considered proposing to him that way and cannot think of a better alternative now.”

 

“Maybe.” 

 

“Hah, how predictable.” 

 

“Are you going to help or should I ask someone else?”, Genji asked, slightly irritated.

 

“I will help, if for no other reason than to watch you stammer through your vows”, Hanzo said with a teasing grin as he sidestepped out of the way, avoiding Genji’s kick to his shin. Even with Hanzo’s help, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. And unfortunately, he didn’t have the chance to think about it long before he, Zenyatta, Lena, and Hanzo were assigned to return back to Hanamura in the hopes that they might find a lead on the remaining clan members. 

 

He wasn’t looking forward to it, the thought of that night kneeling in the dirt with his back aching and Hanzo unconscious in his arms still weighed heavily on his mind. The time for nightmares was behind him and he was thankful that Hanzo was safe and had recovered so quickly thanks to Angela’s good work, but he still couldn’t shake the residual fear of if it. He had been keen once, over-eager to witness Hanzo demise, but now to imagine him gone was nothing short of terrifying. Even the first few days after he was well enough to return to his room he was beyond himself with worry and overly accommodating to the point of being a nuisance. He knew that he was being needlessly pushy, anxious, clingy, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Zenyatta seemed to understand his machinations declaring that it made perfect sense for him to act that way as they both packed for the trip. “Had my brother survived his ordeal that night I would have taken a similar course of action”, he said quietly, placing a set of freshly washed robes in his bag. 

 

Genji wasn’t surprised at his sympathy, he knew he would understand. What surprised him was the fact that he brought up Mondatta at all. He did so very rarely these days, and always in soft and somber tones, he had no doubt that he still thought about him often though. There were times where he would look out over the horizon as the sun sank below the cliffs, or look up to observe the birds as they made lazy trails through the clouds and he thought he could detect a wistfulness in the way he sighed, or a gentle sadness in the way he would tilt his head. It was at those times where he drew close to him, where he adamantly told him he could speak about it if he needed to, where he went out of his way to accommodate him as best he could. Zenyatta always made his appreciation known, not so much through words but through gestures. In the way, he lovingly caressed his face, how he would run his fingers chilled from the night air through his hair or all the times he went out of his way to make him laugh. Those tender thoughts made the idea of journeying back to Hanamura much more bearable. And as he packed away the last of his belongings and tossed his bag in the corner to join Zenyatta in bed he promised himself with an astonishing amount of fervor that as soon as soon as this mission was over he would commit all his energy to formulating the proper proposal. 

 

They left early the next morning and after a fairly uneventful flight arrived in Hanamura just as the sun began to break through the fog. He trudged off the transport still groggy from the trip and not at all thrilled to be back so soon after what had happened. Hanzo quietly joined him a moment later, stopping briefly to let his eyes rove over the skyline, the castle’s tower glaringly absent from the cityscape. Genji sympathized but realized they didn’t have much time so after another minute spent standing in the street he pulled on Hanzo’s arm, urging him to get moving. That seemed to snap his brother out of his reverie because in the next moment they were both briskly walking down the street in the direction of the castle. It was to be a quick trip, they were only there to see if they could find anything, or if there were any clan members lurking around. Genji had wondered if it was even worth the trip, certain that they would find nothing more than a pile of ash where the castle used to stand, and much to his chagrin he wasn’t wrong. 

 

The castle had been reduced to nothing more than a charred pile of planks haphazardly stacked amidst a barren field littered with mortar and blackened stones and cordoned off by bright police tape. The cherry trees of the courtyard were barely recognizable, all that remained of them were gnarled and twisted stumps that jutted from the ground at odd angles, their petals completely burned away. He and Hanzo silently surveyed the wreckage and he felt a momentary stab of grief to see what used to be their home completely decimated, his thoughts turning to the bright and joyful days of their youth. He looked down, kicking at one of the planks only to have it crumble to dust underneath his foot, wondering absently if there was anything he should have taken with him. He felt a hand on his shoulder, he lifted his head to see Hanzo giving him a sympathetic look before he turned his gaze to regard the remains of the castle. They both stared at it for what felt like hours until Zenyatta came to collect them sometime later. Hanzo was the first to step away making his way back in the direction of the transport. Genji remained a moment longer, Zenyatta silently sidled up next to him and put his arm around his middle, drawing him close. Genji leaned his head on his shoulder, suddenly weary and eager to get away. He allowed himself be slowly drawn away shortly after, the castle, like its contents, a distant memory. 

 

They arrived at their hotel that night in poor spirits, only to be further solidified by the news that Lena and Zenyatta’s search throughout the surrounding area had not been fruitful either. Hanzo seemed to take the news the worst out of anyone, holing himself up in his hotel room for the next couple of hours with barely a word. Genji suspected why he had gone off to brood and though he felt the urge to go after him to try to lend him a sympathetic ear, he instead found himself staggering behind Zenyatta as they made slow strides down the hallway to their room. He was relieved when he finally opened the door and fell face first onto the bed his weariness suddenly suffused with guilt. Zenyatta sat down next to him, his hands folded in his lap. “I regret that we could not get here earlier I know it has been a trying day for you”, he said simply, his hand smoothing down the length of Genji’s back. “I am sincerely sorry Genji. Though I have no knowledge as to what it must feel like to lose your home I believe I understand some of what you may be experiencing”, he said softly. “If you wish to speak about it, you are more than welcome to”, he said, continuing to rub slow circles on his back “I will always be here to help.” 

 

Genji didn’t answer him, he merely rolled over onto his back and pulled Zenyatta down into his arms, kissing him. “Thank you”, he said finally, running his fingers down his side “Maybe later I’ll feel like talking about it.”

 

Zenyatta nodded “I believe it would be best for you to rest then”, he said softly. 

 

“I can’t argue with that”, he said with a fatigued sigh, pulling him closer before he quickly drifted off to sleep. 

 

With the mission quickly declared a washout they made the return trip back to the watchpoint the following morning. Genji slept for most of the flight, only waking once as they hit a small patch of turbulence before reaching Spain. They landed shortly after that, with Genji ready to make their report and retire with Zenyatta to their room. They were stopped however by a new recruit, Genji remembered belatedly that Winston had said that there would be some new agents arriving, but hadn’t thought it would be this soon as he observed the short woman standing on the landing strip with her luggage piled next to her. 

 

She was clothed in so many layers and so much fur that she looked better suited for the Arctic rather than the late afternoon heat. She cheerily introduced herself as Mei, a name which Angela seemed to quickly recognize as she came forward to ask how she was doing and if she needed a rest. Mei’s smile didn’t falter although she did admit to feeling a little fatigued “Probably from the jet lag”, she said before Angela ushered her inside. Genji didn’t question her quick introduction, he didn’t have time to as Winston asked them if they could clean out some of the rooms they had missed in their first sweep of the base to prepare for the other incoming agents. He was glad for the distraction as he was still dismayed that the loss of the castle had left such an impression on him. “It is only natural”, Zenyatta commented as he helped him to clean out a particularly dusty room, hovering off the ground to reach a large patch of cobwebs in one of the upper corners. 

 

“Even when I have such bad memories of it?”, Genji asked, sweeping the floor. 

 

“Of course, but from all that you’ve told me, I doubt the bad experiences outweigh the good. It is those cherished memories that the castle helped to represent. But though the structure itself may be gone what you and your family shared within those walls will not fade away.”

 

Genji smiled “Can you come down here for a moment? I need your help with something”, he said. 

 

“By all means, what is it that you need?”, Zenyatta asked, floating back down to the floor. 

 

“Just this”, Genji answered, surging forward and kissing him, completely in favor of forsaking all their chores and ignoring the multitude of dust that still surrounded them. At least until he heard a short cough from the still open doorway and reluctantly pulled away to see Hanzo standing there with a bucket and rag in his hands and a knowing look on his face. 

 

“Dr. Ziegler asked that I give these to you”, he said quickly handing him the rag and bucket. “She thought perhaps you would have need of them, though I see now that all you truly require is a better sense of hearing”, he said with a smirk as he turned to make his way back up the hallway, leaving Genji to yell at him to mind his own business. Hanzo didn’t reply but he did hear a very faint chuckle resound throughout the empty hallway.

 

It seemed just as they were making room for Mei the watchpoint suddenly became inundated with people. The following afternoon they all pulled themselves out of their cleaning daze long enough to greet another newcomer; a man with umber skin and long dreads, clad in a neon tank and jeans with a pair of bright blue rollerblades slung over his shoulder and a plethora of musical equipment in tow. He gave them all a dazzling smile as he introduced himself Lúcio and quickly declared that he was glad to have finally made it. Hana seemed to know him already, they exchanged a high-five and a quick hug before she explained that when he tweeted a month ago that he was going to join up she had reached out to him and they had been talking ever since. Genji liked him immediately, perhaps it was the way in which he showed enthusiasm for everything, or as Zenyatta put it, his affinity for green, but he thought he was probably one of the new agents that was the easiest to get to know. Not long after they had finally managed to somehow fit all of Lúcio’s equipment into his room they were once again called outside to see that someone else had appeared on the landing strip. 

 

It was a tall woman with powerful shoulders, bright pink hair, and well-sculpted arms. She stood in the waning sunlight with her hands on her hips and her luggage piled next to her as she surveyed the peak of the watchtower. Reinhardt was the first to greet her, his hug resembling something more of a headlock as he nearly lifted her off the ground. “It is good to see you again! I see you haven't been skimping on training!”, he exclaimed happily. 

 

“Not if we’re finally going to have that arm wrestling match that you keep putting off”, she said with a quick laugh as she introduced herself as Zarya and turned to greet the rest of them. Though he was instantly aware of the fact that her smile was completely lost as she shook his hand. He didn’t think much of it until he noticed that she quickly dropped the hand Zenyatta had extended to her in greeting as if it had burned her. He had his suspicions about it but didn’t mention it until later when he was helping Angela clean out a room at the end of the hall and she mentioned that Zarya would probably need some time to adjust, specifically when it came to working with him and Zenyatta.

 

“Why is that?”, Genji asked.

 

“Being from Russia and seeing what the omnics did to her country she doesn’t have the best opinion of them”, she said with a bit of a sad smile. 

 

“Well that explains some things, and why she could barely bring herself to shake Zenyatta’s hand”, he said with a trace of anger in his voice.

 

“Yes”, Angela said looking thoughtful as she stacked several boxes of old equipment near the door. “I hope that she’ll come to realize that there’s no reason to distrust either of you”, she said. He didn’t answer her, instead thinking of how her smile had faded as she noticed him, how he must look so similar to those who had stolen her home from her. He understood in a small way, but he couldn’t halt the momentary flash of anger at the thought of her prejudice, especially in terms of Zenyatta. He brought up his irritation to him later that evening after spending the better part of an hour running his hands down his sides and massaging his limbs and joints with a fragrant beeswax. Zenyatta was not upset by the news, in fact, he seemed to suspect it if his gentle sigh was any indication. “I had suspected that though I always prefer to give people the benefit of the doubt”, he said. 

 

“There’s no reason for her to dislike you”, Genji insisted, warming the wax in his hands and gliding it along the joint of his arm. 

 

“From your point of view. But for her, someone who has lost her home and any chance of a peaceful life, I am simply another reminder of what has been stolen away.”

 

“But there are many who have gone through the war and they don’t hate omnics.” 

 

“Ah, but not everyone is the same and therefore will not react to such situations in the same manner. Especially when confronted with something as devastating as the omnic crisis.”

 

“But you haven’t done anything wrong.” 

 

“Sadly that has never stopped people from making assumptions”, he replied calmly. “Even so I believe in time she will see that there is no reason to distrust either of us. The only way we can hope to succeed as a team is when we are all one accord.”

 

But Genji still wasn’t placated by his words “Everyone should like you”, he said as he nuzzled his face into the crook of Zenyatta’s neck. 

 

“Perhaps, but no one is obligated to.” 

 

“But they should.” 

 

“I am fine with just the one person liking me”, he replied, stroking the side of his face. 

 

“I more than like you.” 

 

“I am aware”, Zenyatta said fondly. 

 

“I love you”, he said kissing him, the burning question of when and how he was going to propose swiftly coming back to mind. In all the hurry to ready the watchpoint for Lúcio and the others he hadn’t gotten very far in planning anything, and Hanzo, try as he might, was not well versed in the area of romance. Though he had made several good suggestions while they prepared dinner earlier that night but sadly they were things he and Zenyatta had already done. Instead, he tried to think less about things they could do and simply focus on a place they could go and that idea seemed to illuminate one of the common threads that ran throughout their time together, and that was the beauty of nature. Until his time with Zenyatta he had never really thought much of the natural world, it only served as a backdrop to his affairs, an afterthought. A concept that was completely lost on Zenyatta who seemed to find beauty in the smallest things. In the way, the leaves rustled in the breeze, or the play of light and shadow on a lake surrounded by fragrant pines. It had been on those long treks to and from the monastery where he had truly begun to appreciate it and where he had slowly found love. It seemed only natural for him to propose somewhere like that, away from the inquiring crowd and the noise of the city. Though he wasn’t sure when they would have time to get away from the watchpoint considering their ongoing search for Daisuke and the seemingly never-ending training sessions. He wasn’t sure when the opportune moment would present itself, until their meeting the following afternoon. 

 

Winston summoned him along with Zenyatta, Hanzo, Lúcio, Lena, and Hana for a meeting early the next afternoon after a tiring bout of training. Apparently, the UN had been monitoring most of the country for anything that closely mirrored the clan’s movements and had noticed some suspicious activity in the Yamanashi prefecture. “So the plan is to get you in there and take a look around. It could be nothing, but we need to make sure”, Winston said, setting his tablet aside. 

 

“Did the clan ever have anything set up in Yamanashi?”, Genji asked looking to Hanzo who looked deep in thought. 

 

“Not that I remember. Though I also don’t remember the clan making deals with terrorists, so obviously things have changed”, he said with a frown. “Nevertheless we will be sure to look into it”, he said looking to Winston. 

 

“Thanks, glad to hear it. I know it’s short notice, but you’ll need to leave tomorrow bright and early. It’s crucial that we scope out the area while it’s still relatively active”, he said looking at his tablet. “I’ll update the itinerary and send it to you by tonight.” 

 

They were dismissed not long after that, though he asked to speak with Zenyatta about some maintenance he wanted to do on Athena’s systems in the coming weeks. Which left Genji to his own devices and the attractive, though admittedly not the entirely well-timed idea of proposing to Zenyatta once they reached Yamanashi. There would never be an opportune moment he realized. Not with their duties pulling them in every direction and the inevitability of dangerous situations. It was up to him to make that perfect moment even if it had to be under the most inopportune circumstances. He had been to Yamanashi a handful of times with friends, making multiple trips to the park and reveling in the warmth of the hot springs. Though it was thoughts of Nishizawa Canyon, a trek highlighted by brilliantly clear waterfalls surrounded by vast swaths of greenery that made him pause. Granted, the timing wouldn’t be the best. But considering how his first confession had unfolded even with all his careful planning and anxious imaginings it seemed like the better plan to simply let things progress naturally and with that thought in mind he went off to his room to pack.

\--- 

 

They left early the following day just as the fog that surrounded the watchpoint began to clear. He had walked across the hall and knocked once before Hanzo appeared in the doorway with his bags in tow and followed he and Zenyatta out into the cold morning air to the transport, yawning loudly as he settled in his seat. The rest of them seemed to be feeling much the same way if the lack of chatter was any indication, but there was still a sense of eagerness that pervaded the aircraft as everyone was interested to see if the UN’s lead would bring them any closer to finding the clan. He took his seat next to Zenyatta in the back, the two of them huddled close together as Lena flew them out over the water and he tried to focus his thoughts on what lied ahead of them. 

 

He found that task to be harder than he initially thought. He fidgeted the entire flight, anxious to be done with work so he could lead Zenyatta away and propose. Zenyatta always in tune to the subtle shifts of his mood asked what was bothering him after only 20 minutes in the air. He assured him that he was fine, that he was merely anxious to get their work done. He didn’t look entirely convinced but he didn’t press him further. Instead, he took him by the hand, helping to steady him and banishing any residual nervousness he felt. The flight stretched on for what felt like an eternity until finally they landed and made their way to the hotel where they would be staying. They were slated to rendezvous with several agents from the UN who would inform them about the lead and by the time they had checked in and he had unpacked a few things from his bag they were already being summoned down to the lobby. They stepped out of the elevator to see several UN agents standing in the foyer speaking with another operative that Genji instantly recognized as the man who had let them go back in King’s Row. He gave them a smile and a quick nod of his head before introducing himself as Reed and giving them his report. Apparently, they had caught several men who had come to the area on the off chance that Daisuke would appear, looking for some way to rebuild the clan. They had heard rumors that he had arrived several days prior to them but hadn’t been able to validate those claims before being captured. 

 

Hanzo frowned next to him, before stating that he vaguely remembered that their father had mentioned a small building near the outskirts of the city that had acted as a weapons cache, but it had been lost to infighting and a small fire some years back. “Maybe he came here seeing if he could salvage it and maybe use it as a temporary base”, Genji offered. 

 

“Perhaps, though it seems unlikely”, Hanzo replied. 

 

“Maybe but it’s the only lead we have for now so we might as well look into it”, Genji answered, and after several minutes of silent contemplation Hanzo finally agreed. So that night, locked in a cramped rental car they sat in a nearby alleyway close to the burned out remains of the clan’s old cache and waited. Though after several hours spent shivering in the dark, wedged between Zenyatta and Lena, Genji felt as if they had done nothing but waste their time. But his frustration quickly changed into excitement as he saw someone clad in a black suit slowly emerge from the darkness. Before Hanzo could stop him he had leaped out of the car and was blindly speeding down the street. He could hear his brother run after him, most likely stifling his shouts condemning his hastiness. 

 

As he drew closer to the ruined building he saw that the figure was none other than Daisuke. He looked relatively unharmed although Genji did notice his slight limp as he shuffled forward to try to force the lock on the weather-beaten door. He wasted no time in snatching him away from the entrance, corralling him against the wall, managing to get him into a hold, his sword still safely in its sheath. Hanzo and the others quickly surrounded them their eyes trained on Daisuke as he tried to wriggle out of Genji’s grasp. 

 

“Hanzo”, Daisuke rasped.

 

“Daisuke”, Hanzo replied, in a tone that Genji deemed to be far too calm given the situation. Daisuke didn’t respond, he merely stilled for a moment as Hanzo asked: “What are you doing here?” 

 

“What do you think?”, he asked angrily “I’m here trying to rebuild what you destroyed.” 

 

“That is admirable even though you no longer have the authority to rule”, Hanzo said, his tone suddenly harsh.

 

Daisuke froze in his hold “T-that doesn’t matter.” 

 

“I think many of the remaining members would disagree with you.” 

 

Daisuke didn’t answer, he merely went completely still before finally managing to throw Genji off as he lunged for Hanzo. It was so quick that he nearly missed the drawing of his sword but within the next instant Genji had leaped forward and managed to knock him out, Daisuke’s limp form quickly crumpling to the ground.

 

Lúcio whistled a high note “That was almost too close”, he said as he and the others watched as Hanzo picked Daisuke off the ground and lifted him onto his shoulder. 

 

“Reed said they had set up at the police station right? We should get him back there asap”, Hana said. 

 

“Sounds like a plan to me”, Lena said as she and Zenyatta helped to get Daisuke in the car without jostling him awake. They made the quick drive back to the police station where they were greeted by 2 mildly impressed looking agents who took Daisuke away to a nearby holding cell. 

 

“Glad to see you found him so quickly”, Reed said looking up from his paperwork just long enough to flash them a quick smile. 

 

“What are you planning to do with him?”, Hanzo asked.

 

“Many of the higher ups want his immediate imprisonment”, Reed said with a wave of his hand. “But it’s not every day we get the leader of one of the largest crime families in Japan in our custody. I think it would be best for everyone if we use this time to interrogate him. It’s possible we could get some more leads on the rest of the Shimada-gumi or even some intel on Talon. We have time since he won’t be going on trial right away.” 

 

“Is it possible you could release him into our custody?”, Hanzo inquired. 

 

Genji looked at him perplexed. 

 

“Why?” Reed asked, his eyes narrowed slightly. 

 

Hanzo looked as though he didn’t want to answer. 

 

“We’ve dealt with the clan before and we have extensive knowledge of how they operate. We could get him to talk quicker”, Genji offered. 

 

Reed looked thoughtful for a moment “I’d have to put in some calls to my commanding officers but it should be possible”, he said finally. 

 

“Thank you for the consideration”, Hanzo answered. Reed nodded his head before thanking them again and quickly strode out of the room to make the subsequent phone calls. 

 

Genji followed Hanzo and the others outside a moment later, waiting until their companions had filed into the car before he pulled Hanzo off to the side. “What was that?”, he asked “Why do you want Daisuke coming with us? He already tried to attack you once obviously he blames you for what happened.” 

 

“That may be, but you and I have a better chance of getting him to talk than those UN agents, and by aiding us he may even be granted a more lenient sentence”, he said looking thoughtful “Besides I am to blame for what happened to him.” 

 

“That doesn’t matter. Even if we do get clearance to take him with us he won’t talk and there’s no guarantee that he won’t try another attack on you again.” 

 

“Perhaps, but that is a risk I am willing to take.” 

 

“I don’t understand it. You seem very eager to help someone who’s done nothing but try to attack you.”

 

Hanzo looked at him then, his gaze piercing even under the dim streetlights. “I suppose I am merely trying to offer him the same courtesy that was once shown to me”, he replied quietly.

 

Genji went silent for a moment, he looked away, his eyes trained on the police station that lied behind him, their cousin unconscious somewhere inside. “I still don’t like it”, he muttered. 

 

“Whether you like it or not is immaterial. We will attempt to get the information we need so that we can finally put this business with the clan behind us. If he refuses to cooperate then we leave him to his fate.” 

 

Genji nodded, still not entirely convinced but too tired to argue his point any further. With Daisuke in his holding cell and the hour growing late they finally retired to their hotel rooms for the night. Genji threw himself on the bed, yawning loudly as Zenyatta joined him a moment later. “Are you alright?”, he asked slipping under the blankets. 

 

He nodded “Just tired. What about you? How are you doing?”, Genji asked, rolling onto his knees and climbing in after him. 

 

“Fairly well given the circumstances. I am not used to sitting so long unless it is for meditation”, Zenyatta answered stretching out onto his back. 

 

“I know what you mean”, Genji said quietly, drawing him into his arms. “What do you think about trying to get Daisuke to come with us?”, he asked suddenly.

 

“I cannot say for certain though I am sure many of our companions would agree with you in thinking it to be an ill-advised plan. But you may be surprised, this could very well be your chance to get the closure you seek in terms of the clan. And I believe you might agree that everyone at least deserves one chance to change.”

 

“I guess so”, Genji replied, sighing before he kissed him once, too fatigued to do anything else. 

 

The following morning after a hastily eaten breakfast they returned to the police station only to find that Reed was still struggling with his superiors all of whom were staunchly opposed to releasing Daisuke into their custody. “It will probably take at least 3 more days”, he informed them as he sat on hold, drumming his fingers against the tabletop with a genuine look of annoyance on his face. So as they left the station and with nothing to do but wait for their answer, it was quickly decided after a few minutes of excited chatter and a few suggestions of activities from an elated Hana that they should try to do some sight seeing. 

 

Hanzo, as usual, was reluctant. But was quickly coerced by him, Hana, and Lúcio to take a break and take in some of the attractions around the city. “We came here specifically to look for any remaining clan members not to act as tourists”, he said firmly.

 

“We can’t spend the next 24 hours searching blindly with no leads, we’d have to take a break eventually. Besides you look like you could use one”, Genji replied, pointing to the dark circles around his eyes. 

 

“I would look better rested if you would cease your snoring”, Hanzo groused, pulling an annoyed looking face. 

 

“You weren’t even in the room next to our’s.”

 

“Sound _does_ travel Genji.”

 

Genji rolled his eyes but flashed him a good-natured smile before saying “Listen, I need you to cover for me.”

 

“Why is that?”

 

“Because of that thing we talked about”, he said, hoping Hanzo would catch on to what he meant. 

 

He seemed to because a second later his eyes went wide. “You want to do that now? During a mission?”, he asked, sounding incredulous. “Surely there must be a more appropriate time.”

 

“Like when?”, Genji asked, impatient.

 

“When we return to the watchpoint.”

 

“Yes, because the watchpoint exudes romance.”

 

“The cliffs could be described as such.”

 

“Hanzo.” 

 

“Fine”, he said finally with a weary sigh. 

 

“Thanks, I owe you.” 

 

“Let us not start counting now”, Hanzo answered, as he took Zenyatta by the hand and led him away while the others stood on the corner throwing out countless suggestions on where they should go first. 

 

“Where exactly are we going?’, Zenyatta inquired curiously after several minutes of walking.

 

“You’ll see”, Genji replied with a grin, completely aware that he would most likely owe Hanzo for the rest of his life since he had left him to the mercurial whims of Hana and Lúcio who both seemed determined to squeeze a week's worth of sightseeing into 3 days of free time. Lúcio had admitted to having been to Japan on several tours though sadly he had always been too busy to play the role of a tourist. Hana had relayed a similar story with a dramatic sigh, saying she had been here due to several tournaments but had always been too busy with work or fans to do anything. “I couldn’t even get away long enough to go to the Sailor Moon café”, she said sadly. He had heard her throw that out amongst a long and ever growing list of locations they should visit, Hanzo would certainly have his work cut out for him he thought with a rueful grin. 

 

Genji quickly searched his phone for directions and they slowly made their way to Chichibu Tama Kai National Park. When they finally arrived in the park he led him up and onto the trail, taking him by the hand as they continued making their ascent up the hillside. He felt his heart quicken not from the exertion of the hike but from the sheer fact of what he would soon be doing once they reached the overlook. He had no doubt of Zenyatta’s answer, it was more the anticipation that had him on edge. The anxiousness that they would soon be starting something new together, the hope that their mission would be over soon so they could come and go as they pleased again. There were so many desires racing through his mind that he had trouble concentrating on one. But as they neared the top of a well-forested overhang that looked out over the waterfall, as the basin of water swirled and eddied below them, as he observed the crags and boulders that surrounded the water and the deep and vibrant greens of the vegetation covering the landscape his mind became clear. There were many desires but the one at the root of them all was his desire to have Zenyatta remain by his side. “It is a beautiful sight”, Zenyatta commented, his voice gone soft in appreciation. Genji nodded, he had taken off his helm and visor so he could really enjoy it but also for what was coming next. He took a deep breath before slipping his hand out of Zenyatta’s grasp. He tilted his head curiously but seemed to quickly understand as Genji sunk to one knee the box firmly held in his outstretched hand. He felt his pulse quicken again as he heard the barely audible gasp from overhead a moment later. He heard that same voice say very softly “Genji”, in a tone that was so warm and fond that he felt the tips of his ears burn. 

 

“I know my timing is off”, Genji said slowly “But I don’t care, and I can’t wait any longer than I already have. I love you and I want to know would you marry me?”

 

The question had barely passed his lips before Zenyatta had knelt down and kissed him, his arms thrown around his neck in an effort to pull him closer. Genji kissed him back with such passion that he nearly sent Zenyatta toppling backward, balanced as he was on the balls of his feet. When they pulled apart minutes later Genji gave him a wide grin “So I’m guessing that means a yes?”, he asked. 

 

Zenyatta chuckled in his ear “Of course, what other reply could I give to such a question?”, he said fondly, his fingers gently combing through his hair. He knew he was most likely grinning like an idiot but he couldn’t be bothered to care as he picked up the ring box and opened it. He gently took him by the hand, his fingers shaking slightly and slipped the ring onto his finger. Zenyatta admired it for a moment before taking the matching band and quietly sliding it onto his finger. Genji felt a blush slowly creep across his face, a strange kind of giddy daze overtaking him as he stared at it. Zenyatta let him examine it for a brief moment before he took his hand and laid a gentle kiss along his knuckles before kissing him on the lips.They stayed there for the next hour content to simply observe the waterfall as it moved and cascaded down the rocks, the breeze gently pulling the leaves from their branches and down onto the shimmering waters below.

 

When they finally returned Hanzo was the first to spot them. They had found them after several garbled phone calls in a noisy arcade, his brother stood by the wall watching Lúcio and Hana try to outdo one another at Dance Dance Revolution with Lena close by acting as a sort of cheerleader. He noticed them as they slowly made their approach, pushing their way past the crowds of people. Hanzo wasted no time, his gaze automatically snapping to their joined hands. He gave them both a small smile “Good”, he said, “At least that makes up for the past hour.” 

 

“Admit it you enjoyed yourself”, Genji said.

 

“It has not been entirely disagreeable”, Hanzo admitted slowly. 

 

“That is good to hear but forgive us for returning so late”, Zenyatta said with a slight bow of his head.

 

“There’s no reason for us to apologize”, Genji insisted.

 

“There really isn’t”, Hana said, coming over with several prizes in hand as Lúcio looked to be baffled as to how he lost the game. “He definitely enjoyed himself. He even won a couple rounds.” 

 

“You got him to play?”, Genji asked in awe.

 

“Yeah, he was decent”, she said approvingly, looking to Hanzo. 

 

“That is because the game requires no rhythm”, Genji said teasingly as Hanzo elbowed him in the ribs.

 

Lena came over a moment later with Lúcio following closely on her heels “You both missed one heck of a matchup, where did you run off to?”, she asked.

 

“We had some business to take care of”, Genji replied, with a shrug, his hand moving to show off his ring.

 

Lena’s eyes went wide as did Lúcio’s though Hana was the first to respond. “No way! Are you two engaged?”, she asked.

 

“We are”, Zenyatta answered happily.

 

“Congratulations you two! That’s wonderful news”, Lena exclaimed.

 

“Hey, if you need someone to work sound for the wedding, you can definitely hit me up”, Lúcio said with a grin.

 

“I know a couple cool places for the venue”, Hana said with a smile “Just throw my name and they’ll give you an awesome discount.”

 

Genji allowed himself a momentary smile at his friends excited clamoring over his engagement, their proposed ideas for their wedding growing larger and more elaborate with every minute until they had a conceived a ceremony that began with them on a beach and ended with them on an elite cruise ship that would span every ocean. Despite everything, even his own misgivings, Genji was immensely glad that he had let Zenyatta talk him into staying.

 

\---

 

It had taken the next 2 days but after what Reed claimed to be a hard won battle they were granted custody of Daisuke, though he did warn them that it wouldn’t be for long. Hanzo seemed to be happy with the outcome as he thanked him with a terse nod of his head as two agents quietly escorted Daisuke onto the transport in handcuffs. He gave them all a heated glare but remained completely silent as he and the others came onboard after giving their thanks to Reed and his operatives and bidding them a quick farewell. Without another word Lena stationed herself at the helm, the aircraft steadily climbing into the air and the route back to the watchpoint set. Genji watched Daisuke from his seat nearby, he met his eyes briefly before averting his gaze to the floor, where he kept it for the remainder of the flight. Hanzo sat next to him, his arms crossed over his chest he had yet to make an attempt to speak with him probably sensing from his deafening silence and his agitated posture that he was in no mood to talk. Genji couldn’t blame him, he had been in that position once, torn from his home and forced into a situation that had him feeling like a large bird in a cage that was 2 sizes too small. But maybe Zenyatta was right, perhaps this was what Daisuke needed, what they all needed. A chance. A chance to change, to move forward, to finally pull away from the rigid confines of the clan. One chance was all he needed. It was that split second decision made on the floor of the castle, that simple offer for a new body that had led him here, that had led him to Zenyatta. Though the road had been a long and certainly painful one to travel he couldn’t deny the fact that he was glad he had been given the chance at all. How could he deny his cousin that? He wondered as Daisuke continued to sit there quietly seething. He had no idea if they would actually be able to get him to talk if his intel would be anything more than boldfaced lies to cover his subordinate’s tracks but at the very least they had to try.

 

After a flight spent in relative silence, they landed on the beach and made the quick trek up the sandy path to the watchpoint with Daisuke in tow. He hadn’t spoken, even as they entered the watchpoint and Winston inquired as to how they had managed to let the UN bring him here. Genji saw his eyes go wide with surprise but he remained silent as he and Hanzo escorted him to a small holding cell at the back of the base. Hanzo closed and locked the door a look of thoughtful concern on his face, he understood that look he was sure it was mirrored on his face as he wondered if their cousin was holding up alright after everything that had happened and if he would indeed supply the information they needed. After a short debrief Winston dismissed them, suggesting that they try to get some rest and asking that he and Hanzo attempt to interrogate Daisuke tomorrow. They both quickly agreed, eager to find the last vestiges of the clan and put this behind them. After one final congratulation from Winston on a job well done, they all went their separate ways. He and Zenyatta wasted no time in returning to their room, not so much due to fatigue but for the simple fact that after their engagement he had been restless to celebrate their upcoming union but due to their mission they hadn’t had the time nor the energy to do anything. Now though, in the dimly lit confines of their room, they were finally alone and there was nothing to stop him from the outpouring of want he had been laboring under for the past several days. As soon as Zenyatta had closed the door he swept him up in his arms, carrying him to the bed with a sly smile before sitting him down on the edge of the mattress to begin slipping off his clothes.

 

“You are particularly eager tonight. Though admittedly that is not surprising”, Zenyatta said with a fond chuckle as he helped Genji to undo the knot tied in the sash around his waist. 

 

“Can you blame me when I have my fiancé in bed with me?”, Genji asked, finally untying the knot and tossing his sash to the floor.

 

“I suppose I cannot seeing as I am in a similar position”, Zenyatta answered. “Also if I’m not mistaken this is the first time we have truly been alone in several days”, he said removing Genji’s faceplate, his fingers gently running along the lines of several scars as he peeled the metal away. He shuddered slightly, his task of getting Zenyatta undressed temporarily forgotten. “What would you have us do?”, Zenyatta asked in a low voice as he gently took off his helm and set it aside on the table. 

 

“That’s not fair”, Genji answered with a teasing grin “I can’t come up with everything.” 

 

“True but you seem to be quite adept at these matters thus far.” 

 

“I’d still like to see what you come up with”, Genji replied, kissing him.

 

“I doubt it would be nearly as exciting as the scenarios you’ve devised for us”, Zenyatta answered with an almost put upon sigh.

 

“Have a little more faith in yourself”, Genji said with a grin, sliding farther own his body to kiss along his flank and down his leg. He had already reached the floor, kissing along his calf and moving onto his feet when Zenyatta slowly pulled him off the floor and gathered him in his arms. He gently tugged him back onto the bed, arranging him in such a way where Genji’s back was against the wall and he was straddling his lap. Immediately Zenyatta’s hands cooled from the ocean breeze found their way into his hair, his fingers massaging his scalp with gentle caresses. He let loose a soft sigh, he had learned quickly in all the time they had been together that a good head massage could be just as stimulating as the times Zenyatta’s fingers would find their way under the metal plating at his sides. He pushed his head forward kissing him along the seam of his faceplate, his breath hitching slightly as Zenyatta’s hands wandered down the back of his neck and then back to tenderly trace the shell of his ear. He wasn’t sure what Zenyatta’s plan was if this was going to be all they did or this if this was meant to act as a prelude to future activities. Either way, he was slightly embarrassed at the fact that he was already so aroused with him in his lap and just those few tender touches to his ears and scalp. It didn’t end there however as Zenyatta seemed determined to reacquaint himself with already well-traveled territory, retracing every part of him but taking special care in every crevice and curve, not leaving one part of him untouched or unmapped with his fingers. A groan, unbidden, passed his lips. The way he touched his body, the exploratory strokes that sent shivers down his spine, and the feather light caresses that made his breath hitch told him very quickly that Zenyatta was not in a rush. 

 

On the contrary, he seemed to be there solely for one thing; to worship the form that at one time he had seen as nothing more than a tool, a weapon, a curse. But now acted as one of the things that had brought them together, the vessel that had kept him alive so that they could meet, the body that he had grown to love over the long months of pain and self-doubt. The body that Zenyatta was now lavishing all his attention on, trying to find the way to bring forth the best reactions from him, making sure no part of him was uncovered, no plane was untouched. He had been in this place before but it was never drawn out to the point that Genji thought he might go out of his mind from the simple pleasure of it. The way he kissed his neck, his chest, his stomach, or the way his nimble fingers rapped under the plating at his sides. By the time he had worked his way down to caressing his thighs, he was hopelessly, desperately aroused. So much so that he nearly begged Zenyatta to touch the one spot he had been seemingly avoiding. Zenyatta obliged him though in Genji’s opinion he was needlessly slow, drawing it out so long that by the time he finally did come he felt good but nearly exhausted. He laid out on the bed, completely spent and boneless, reveling in the afterglow “Remind me to let you come up with the ideas more often”, he said. 

 

“I assume it was to your liking then”, Zenyatta said, sounding satisfied.

 

“Of course, didn't you hear me?” Genji asked, pulling him close. 

 

“I did indeed. I would like to hear more from you.” 

 

“Right now? Well, I could try.” 

 

“No, I simply meant in the future”, Zenyatta answered with a chuckle. 

 

“Anymore from me and I think the whole watchpoint would know what we’re doing. Though I guess they kind of do already”, he said looking to the ring currently adorning Zenyatta’s finger. “I hope we can retire one day”, Genji said wistfully. 

 

Zenyatta didn’t respond, he merely took his face in his hands, his fingers smoothing over the lines of multiple scars. Genji took his hand, turning it over to kiss his palm then his wrist and up the length of his arm. “We will have time off soon”, he said finally, all calm and soothing tones. 

 

“Yeah, when we find the rest of the clan. Who knows how long that will take.” 

 

“We could always take a leave of absence after we are married”, Zenyatta answered and Genji felt his heart flutter at those words. 

 

“Maybe we should”, he replied, “After all we have the honeymoon to think about.” 

 

“I doubt we can get up to anything more exciting than we already have.” 

 

“You’d be surprised”, Genji said with a devilish grin. 

 

“I would sincerely hope all our time would not be spent in the bedroom”, Zenyatta answered with a laugh. 

 

“Not all of it, besides you know you enjoy it.”

 

“I never disputed that”, Zenyatta answered amiably, kissing the top of his head “Where would you have us go?” 

 

“I’m not sure. Where would you like to go?” 

 

“It would be nice to revisit Barcelona. We didn’t have long to enjoy it before duty called us away.”

 

“That sounds good. I was also thinking we could make a trip to the monastery, maybe stay for a few weeks.”

 

“An excellent idea, it would be nice to see it again”, Zenyatta said fondly. 

 

“Yes”, Genji agreed. After all, it was the place where he had found somewhere to belong, where he had found love, and he still saw it as home even before the castle burned and laid in ruins. But the image in his mind of that house he had so perfectly envisioned pulled him away from the monastery and the cold mountain air into someplace warm and sunny. “Zenyatta, how would you feel about living somewhere other than the monastery after this is over? Somewhere for just the two of us.”

 

“It does sound tempting, where did you have in mind?” 

 

“I’m not sure yet, but somewhere quiet, maybe near the ocean. And you could even have a garden in the backyard so you could move all those plants out of our room.”

 

“I was under the impression that you were quite fond of them.”

 

“I am but it was starting to get out of control.”

 

“I am not sure I’m inclined to agree with you.”

 

“You wouldn’t, you weren’t the one tripping over them every morning.”

 

“True, but in an effort to ensure your safety I did move them.”

 

“Right, that’s when we were basically barricaded inside our room. The others thought a jungle had sprung up during the night, they could barely get through it.”

 

“Ah, but in time they did.”

 

“Yes, after an hour of trying.”

 

Zenyatta looked thoughtful “I suppose they would be better served outside rather than our relatively small room back at the monastery”, he said finally. “You have certainly put a lot of thought into this”, he said, kissing him once on the forehead. “I love you.”

 

“I love you too”, Genji replied, kissing him before turning out the lights and closing his eyes. Thoughts of what the future held, for the first time in years, leaving him sighing with contentment.

 

The following morning he and Hanzo made the admittedly tense walk to Daisuke’s cell. If it were up to him they would leave him for a few more days until hopefully his initial anger had been burned away by the simple passage of time. But unfortunately, they were on a tight schedule and couldn’t afford to wait as the UN would arrive to take him to a yet to be disclosed location before his trial. Genji felt a momentary stab of guilt that they weren’t trying to find some way to get him acquitted, that they were essentially using him as an informant and nothing more as if there were no ties of blood between them. Sadly though they couldn’t afford to be sentimental although he couldn’t help the momentary feeling of concern as they walked into the interrogation room to see him slumped over in his chair his head in his hands as if he were tired. When he looked up Genji could see that he must be as the dark circles rimming his eyes indicated a relatively sleepless night. He looked at them both, raising an eyebrow as his gaze fell on Hanzo “That’s an interesting look for you”, he remarked slowly, his tone fatigued. 

 

“I am not here for your opinions on my style”, Hanzo answered, annoyed. “I’m simply here to ask you about the remaining clan members”, he said taking the seat across from him. 

 

“I’m not telling you anything. You spoke badly of me for working with Talon but now you’re working for Overwatch?”

 

“I am not, but even if I was I fail to see the comparison.”

 

“I still don’t understand. How you can just sell us out like this?”, Daisuke asked, seemingly baffled.

 

“I am not selling out anyone but the way things were going the clan should have died out a long time ago. The dragons themselves seem to agree if their destruction of the castle is any indication. You have nothing to protect, what's left of the clan is scattered, and to try to reform now in the hopes that we might regain some of our former power is nothing more than a foolish dream.”

 

Daisuke looked conflicted, his eyes dropping to the floor “You seem so eager to throw it all away”, he said quietly.

 

“And you seem very eager to hold onto it”, Hanzo replied.

 

“You just don’t get it. Without the clan all this work I’ve put in, everything I’ve done will have been for nothing. There won’t be anything left for me.”

 

“There will be though”, Genji interjected suddenly “We could at least try to get you a more lenient sentence, but you have to give us some information first.”

 

Daisuke looked at him curiously. “Even if I believed you could do that, I can’t just out the family like that.”

 

“The family you speak of does not seem overly concerned with your safety”, Hanzo said, his tone steely. “They allowed you to be captured and have made no attempts to help you escape. But we are your family Daisuke and you would be helping us do away with something that should have been finished long ago.” 

 

Their cousin frowned “We?”, he asked, puzzled.

 

Hanzo looked at him curiously, obviously wondering if he would reveal himself. Genji saw no reason not to so without a second thought he quickly removed his helm and visor placing them on the table as he rearranged his hair. By the time he looked up Daisuke’s eyes were wide with shock. “Genji”, he said, so quietly he almost couldn’t hear him. “I thought you said you had killed him”, he said, looking to Hanzo. 

 

“I thought I had as well but Overwatch saved him”, Hanzo replied, his tone clipped. 

 

Daisuke came forward slowly, his eyes seemingly roving every laceration and scar that cut across his face. Genji was slightly uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny though thankfully it didn’t last long. Their cousin stepped back a moment later with a contrite look on his face. “I’m sorry”, he said suddenly “I didn’t expect to-”, he cut himself off, shaking his head. “The elders really asked you to do this?”, he asked. 

 

Hanzo didn’t answer, his mouth set into the hard line of a frown as he gave him a terse nod. Daisuke looked between them quickly before dropping back into his seat, a mixture of confusion and bafflement were written across his face. “I need time to think”, he said finally. Hanzo nodded again as he rose from his seat silently beckoning for Genji to follow him, he did so after collecting his helm and they left the room a moment later careful to lock the door behind them. 

 

“Do you think he’ll talk?”, Genji asked after several minutes of silence spent walking down the hallway.

 

Hanzo crossed his arms with a frown “I cannot be certain, but given his reaction just now he might”, he said. “Though I am surprised that you offered him anything at all considering you were so opposed to him coming here.”

 

Genji didn’t reply, instead, his gaze was focused straight ahead to the furthest reach of the corridor. The door to the outside was slightly ajar allowing in a shaft of late morning sunlight that just barely illuminated the walls. He hadn’t planned to offer Daisuke anything, he had been reluctant to even speak with him until he had seen the look on his face; that pained expression of confusion. He realized very quickly that the least they could do was to offer him a chance, however slim, at a more lenient sentence. It didn’t seem right for him to bear the full brunt of things when he nor Hanzo were blameless. Even so, he couldn’t deny the nearly unnerving sense of uncertainty he felt once he had blurted out that haphazard offer, a feeling that still persisted even as they were slowly retreating from Daisuke’s cell. Reyes must have felt something similar after offering him that chance all those years ago, not sure if it would work out, uncertain of what the future held if it could even be done. He had no idea of what lied in Daisuke’s future, what his fate would be if they would even be able to secure a sentence that was any less than something close to a decade spent in prison. But at the very least they try it and hope for the best. 

 

He realized he had been quiet for too long when they were nearly to the end of the hallway. Hanzo hadn’t repeated his statement he was merely staring at him expectantly, his eyebrow raised. Genji gave him a fleeting smile “Everyone deserves a chance”, he said finally. Hanzo gave him a look he couldn’t easily place, but he seemed satisfied with the answer if his half smile was any indication. They parted ways shortly after that, Genji went off in search of Zenyatta hoping they could squeeze in some time to spar before their other duties called them away. He found him some moments later standing in the mess hall with the teapot in hand. Lúcio was nearby speaking in soft tones while Zenyatta nodded his head as he poured him a cup and handed it to him. Lúcio took it not breaking his train of thought as Genji decided to wait by the door, not wanting to disturb them. 

 

“I don’t think she’ll ever get it”, he heard him say, his usual jovial tone more somber. 

 

“It can be hard to accept one’s mistakes”, Zenyatta said, setting the kettle aside “Though I believe her being here is a testament to her acknowledging that.” 

 

“Maybe.” 

 

“It is understandable if you do not agree but she appears to be making an effort to set things right. In time you may find more in common with her than you think.” 

 

“No offense Zen, but I think pigs have a better chance of sprouting wings before that happens.” 

 

“I will be sure to alert you when they do then”, Zenyatta answered amiably. 

 

Lúcio laughed “For real though, thanks for the talk man. I really needed it.” 

 

“I am happy to help. I assume you will be joining us for meditation tomorrow?”

 

“Hey, you know it”, Lucio said happily. “Oh hey, how’s my favorite ninja?”, Lúcio asked as Genji walked through the door and proceeded to give him a high five.

 

“I’m doing alright”, Genji answered. 

 

“Awesome, hey you down for meditation tomorrow?” 

 

“I think I’ll have time.” 

 

“Great! See you then”, Lúcio answered as he glided from the room. 

 

Genji smiled as he walked over to Zenyatta, who was already pouring him a cup. He had barely set it down on the countertop before Genji had it in his hand, he took a sip before asking “What were you two talking about?” 

 

“Lúcio expressed some concerns about Satya. Apparently, when she was still working for Vishkar she had supported some things that led to them being at odds with one another and even now they are not especially personable with each other. I was just giving him some advice.” 

 

“Leave it to you to be solving the team's problems already”, Genji said amicably. 

 

“Perhaps, but I have no intention of interfering in anyone’s affairs unless asked. He asked me what I thought so I merely gave him my opinion on the matter.” 

 

“Did your opinion include several proverbs he didn’t understand?” 

 

“No, I thought I would save that for when we are better acquainted.” 

 

“I guess I was just special then.” 

 

“Of course”, Zenyatta answered with a chuckle. “I have been meaning to ask you, but have you thought at all about where you’d like the ceremony to be held?” 

 

“Not really”, he answered a tad sheepishly. 

 

“It is quite alright I was merely curious.” 

 

“Do you have anywhere in mind?” 

 

“I had thought perhaps we could have it at the monastery.” 

 

“That could work. Besides I’m pretty sure Suman would never let us hear the end of it if we didn’t let him be a part of it somehow.” 

 

“I believe you’re right. Knowing him he will only be satisfied with the most important role though he’ll never say it.”

 

“Alright, so we head to the monastery and then to Barcelona for the honeymoon. That sounds like a plan.” 

 

“Unless you have any other suggestions?” 

 

“I can’t think of anything.” 

 

“Nowhere comes to mind?” 

 

“Well not for the wedding, but maybe for afterward”, he said with a wicked grin. 

 

Zenyatta sighed “Now I cannot be sure of your previous vow. You had led me to believe that we would be seeing something other than just the bedroom for our holiday.”

 

“We will, don’t worry.”

 

Zenyatta didn’t look convinced. 

 

“I promise”, he said, placing his palm over his heart as he came forward to take Zenyatta’s hand and planted a kiss along his knuckles. 

 

“I suppose we shall have to wait and see if you are as trustworthy as you claim to be”, he said with a short laugh as Genji elbowed him lightly before kissing him again. He only relented when he heard the jangle of spurs and two voices talking animatedly. They were out of the room and making their way towards the shooting range by the time Jesse and Reinhardt could be heard chattering in the kitchen behind them. 

 

The two of them walked out onto the plateau, the cliffs already casting lengthy shadows along the shooting range. He heard the sharp cries of the gulls overhead as they sailed through the air caught in a sudden updraft. Genji threw his arm around Zenyatta’s shoulder as they walked, admiring the view of the ocean as it swelled and shimmered under the afternoon sun. He let his mind wander for a moment, at one time his thoughts had been muddled with the mire of the past, constantly preoccupied with previous pains. These days he was more deeply rooted in the present. Although sometimes, and especially now, he found himself thinking of the future and what it held for them. He had no idea of what the future would bring, the challenges they would face, where they would end up when their business with Overwatch was finally done, or if Zenyatta would truly keep to his word and part with a few of his coveted plants. He wasn’t sure of any of it, and for the first time in years, that didn’t alarm him. Whatever the future held for them, whatever they would have to endure; whether it would be firefights with Talon or even the incessant but oddly endearing nosiness of their friends it didn’t concern him. Because right now for this moment he was content to simply be here with him, out on the shooting range under the cliffs far-reaching shadow as the surf gently rumbled below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it, the final chapter of Convalescence. It's been one heck of a journey writing this fic and I've enjoyed every minute of it. I never thought I would get so much awesome feedback from all of you and it really made all those nights of editing and worrying all worth it. The stuff with the Shimada-gumi is left pretty open ended but that's because to really close that chapter its going to take a couple years or work from the bros but I wanted to leave things on a relatively good note and to show that it's something they're working towards. As far as future work goes I have a Genyatta one shot that I think I may revisit soon as well as a Mchanzo fic I would really like to write, but I think I'm going to take a break at least for a month before I start anything. If you want to hit me up to chat about Genyatta or anything you can reach me at my [tumblr](http://electrik-boogaloo.tumblr.com/). I want to thank everyone for reading and commenting on this and I hope to see you on my next fic!

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing this pairing, and my first time writing a multi-chaptered fic. I have yet to plan out this whole story so we'll see how it unfurls.


End file.
